Whose Mind is it, Anyway?
by Steveles
Summary: Hello there! Do you want to play a game, a guessing game? Can you figure out whose mind I'm describing in each chapter? There's no telling what characters I'll use or what events I'm choosing! It could be from any movie, book, play, animation, or anything at all! The possibilities are huge! Rated T because there may be some darker situations later on. COMPLETED
1. A Timid Morning

**A/N: Sorry for the length of this author's note, but I have a lot that needs explained. I won't post it in any other chapters, though, so hopefully it won't mess up the wordcount too terribly.**

 **Hello, fellow FanFiction writers, readers, and haters! It is I, Steveles, and I'm here to invite you to play a game with me. "Really?" you ask, "What sort of game?" Well, I'll tell you: It's a guessing game I've made up, called " _Whose Mind is it, Anyway?_ " (because puns are simultaneously the best and worst things to have happened to the English language). Here's how it works:**

 **I will write out a small vignette* about an event from any book/movie/play/whatever. The catch, of course, being that it's from the point-of-view of one character involved in the event... or, rather, from the point-of-view of his or her emotions. You'll see them react to what's going on in vague terms (i.e. I won't drop names of other characters, I won't use proper nouns, and I won't be completely clear with what's going on).**

 **Nonetheless, perhaps I will occasionally drop names of the character's Personality Islands, and maybe even describe what their Headquarters looks like. Heck, I might even go so far as to describe what their emotions look like; though the genders will be randomized so as not to give too much of a hint (this means that, yes, a male character could potentially have a bunch of female emotions trying to help him, so don't think the genders themselves are a clue; you'll more than likely get a wrong guess).  
**

 **Once I've described the inner workings of this person's mind, I'll zoom out and do a few paragraphs explaining what's actually happening, and - therefore - giving up the answer. The keywords are, "Meanwhile, on the outside..." So, when you see _those_ words, know that the answer is coming up and you shouldn't read further unless you have the guess you think is best. Yes? Yes.**

 **Feel free to make your own guessing games like this (as long as you come up with your own unique title for it, of course)! I'd be thrilled to see an entire "guessing game" genre of ' _Inside Out'_ fanfiction show up.**

* * *

 _A CAVEAT: Not all these characters are from stories I'm necessarily fond of. Then again, there are many I like. The thing is, I'll use characters that I feel would be fun to use for this game, regardless of how much I like the source material. So, don't think that my posting of a character automatically means I enjoy the story he/she is from; I might actually hate it, but think the character would work well for the game. So, there you go._

 _Also, if the character is from a story you've never heard before, then you can't be blamed for not knowing. Don't worry, and don't feel obliged to count that as a "loss" (if you're even keeping score at all, of course). Last of all, I'll try to avoid spoilers._

 _Now, with that artery-clogging nightmare of an author's note finally out of the way, let's begin this round of "Whose Mind is it, Anyway?" This one's from a book/movie..._

* * *

The neatly-organized drawers and cupboards of Headquarters were silent, lined with memories sorted in perfect order and without a shred of disorganization to them. Each one was methodically placed right where it could be easily accessed and reviewed. Or, rather, that _would_ have been the case, had there been any memories around today. But it was only morning, and - therefore - there were scarcely any memories to be had. What ones there were, however, were all purple.

At the console, the only emotion currently awake was nervously stroking her chin, tea in her free hand. Sipping cautiously, her eyes glanced all around the window to the real world in front of her. Carefully, she set the tea down on the console's polished wooden surface, then pulled a lever. _'Around that corner!'_ she thought _'They're right there, I just know it!'_

But as the view shifted to just that, it revealed nothing. Fear sighed in relief as another purple memory came rolling in. Swallowing another gulp of tea, she moved on to search the other rooms, feeling nervously that they were not alone. But as she searched and searched, there wasn't a trace of anyone else; not even a scrap of paper. It was as if they vanished into thin air (a thought that made Fear all the more nervous)!

Minutes passed, and she was startled as Sadness walked in, still groggy, and said, "Morning, Fear..."

"Whoa!" she yelped, then - calming herself, said, "Good morning, Sadness."

The blue emotion stretched, took his seat, and looked up at the view. "Hey," he asked, "where is everyone?"

Fear shrugged. With a nervous laugh, she said, "Hopefully gone."

"Oh..." Sadness said. He nudged a button or two, "That's a shame... I wanted to at least show them out the door... Besides-"

"Hey guys!" Joy shouted at the top of her lungs as she bounced downstairs, "Hello hello hello! What a wonderful day we'll be having! Where-" she stopped as she saw what was happening outside. Her shoulders slumped, she sighed, and she thumped down in her chair without saying a word.

"I know," Sadness said, patting her on the back, "There, there, it's okay..." In reality, it looked less like Joy was the one that needed comforting and more like Sadness needed a hug; he was on the brink of tears.

Soon enough, Anger and Disgust joined the group. "Ugh," Disgust said as he wiped some shaving cream off, "Thank goodness they're gone! They smelled disgusting."

Unable to take it anymore, Sadness burst into a bawling fit. "We're too late!" he moaned over and over again, as Joy did her best to make him feel better. It wasn't working.

"Well," Fear announced, "As leader, I feel we did a good job! Good riddance, I say!"

"Agreed," Disgust added, "There's no way that-"

But Anger interrupted it all. "What do you mean?!" she shouted out, "We wasted all that time for _nothing?_ We _missed our chance?_ Rrrgh! Aaah!" She swung her arms in exacerbation and - in the process - spilled tea all over the console. Disgust and Fear groaned in unison, and both jumped up to go grab some rags to clean up the mess. As they went to a back room, Joy took the controls in an attempt to cheer up Sadness.

"Well, it can't be all that bad," she suggested, "How about we light up a pipe and enjoy this nice morning air, eh?" As she inserted the candle-shaped idea into the control panel, Sadness suddenly sat upright. "Wait, stop!" he said. Everyone froze, and the candle was taken promptly out. The three emotions looked up at the screen, mouths agape.

"They left it behind..." Sadness said. Joy was temporarily awestruck and unresponsive, and it took a brief slap to get her to focus. "Hurry! Now, Joy! Now's our chance! We can sign it! We can sign it and take off while Disgust and Fear are still gone!" That was enough for Joy, who jumped over to the candlesticks, stuck one in the appropriate slot, and beamed as it was accepted then lit up on its own.

A few minutes later, those two emotions returned to clean up the spilled tea. As they did so, they looked up to see Sadnness, Joy, and Anger beaming and grinning. "What the..." Disgust began, but was interrupted by Fear jumping up and pointing an accusing finger at the candle sticking out of the controls.

"What is _that_?" the purple emotion demanded. Throwing the rag down, she scurried over to the candle and attempted to pull it out, but to no avail. She blew on it again and again, but it stayed lit. She attempted to pinch it out, but only succeeded in burning herself; it was secured in there tight, and taken completely.

"No!" Disgust yelled as he stared up at the giant glass window that consisted of their view to the outside world.

The others (well, all but Disgust and Fear, who were catatonic) were cheering and celebrating as they saw the front door fling open and the yard begin to rush by. They were on their way!

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, without a walking stick or even a pocket handkerchief, Bilbo Baggins was running at full speed down the hill that consisted of his home in Hobbiton. He flung himself over a fence and made his way, contract in hand, down through the village as quickly as his feet could take him, ignoring roads and signs and boundaries, making a beeline to Thorin's company on the outskirts of town. A passing neighbor was nearly hit by the hobbit as he darted by.

"Oi! Bilbo! Where are you off to?" he asked, decidedly confused.

"Can't stop!" the hobbit replied, beaming such a smile that hadn't adorned his face since youth, "I'm already late!"

"Late for what?"

"I'm going on an adventure!"

* * *

 _By request, I'm going to explain the proper hints at the end of each chapter, to help you guys follow my thought process and see what exactly you could have looked for to help (or to perhaps judge that I didn't give enough hints). Here they were for Bilbo Baggins:_

 _1\. The organization - okay, so it's someone who is obsessively neat and tidy._

 _2\. The fact that Fear is in charge - so it's someone who's frequently timid._

 _3\. The fact that the controls are wooden and that I very carefully avoided referring to the screen as a "screen" - in Bilbo's mind, it's actually a giant glass window - were there to imply that it was someone from castle ages and NOT the modern world. I assume the emotions would only know what the character knows, and - logically - the headquarters would reflect that time period._

 _In a similar vein, the lack of lightbulbs and the use of candles for ideas was also supposed to indicate that electricity isn't yet being used for power, so it's likely to take place in medieval times._

 _4\. Joy suggesting smoking a pipe as a fun pastime indicates it's someone that frequently smokes a pipe outside._

 _5\. The fact that "The others" are missing refers to the dwarves from the beginning of the story (you can see where - if I used the term "dwarves" - I'd give away my hand), when they crashed in and wrecked his house, then were gone by morning. He was timid that they might show up, then disappointed that they were gone, disgusted when he reflected their untidiness, angry that he missed his shot, and then - of course - joyful when he saw the contract still sitting there and had the chance to sign it and go off on the adventure anyways._

 _Naturally, this is using the movie as a reference, but I felt like that was the one people were most likely to recognize (because if you read the book, chances are you've at least watched the movies (opinions of them aside), but someone who's seen the movies may not have necessarily read the book yet). Besides, the setup for that particular scene was fairly similar in both the book and the movie._

* * *

 **Closing note: Well, what did you think? Do you like this idea? Did you guess correctly? What are some characters/situations you'd like to see this guessing game applied to? Let me know! Or, better yet: do your own guessing story like this! The more the merrier!**

 **I'll leave this story marked as incomplete for now, because I plan to periodically go back to it and update it each time a new character/situation occurs to me that would be fun to use. I don't know how many chapters there will be, though. There could be as few as five or as many as fifty.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!**

* * *

*A brief description of a scene or event - not intended to be a full story, but rather a "picture" of a situation.


	2. Blowing a Gasket or Two Hundred

**A/N: Alright, guys, you may have noted in the opening that I said these chapters might look into some pretty dark themes at times, depending on what scenes I use involving what characters.**

 **This is one of those times where I take a look at a decidedly not-child-friendly character's mind thinking family-unfriendly thoughts. Don't worry - I will keep it within the teen rating I gave this fanfic on the front end; just know that this is one of those darker moments I was referring to.**

 **Okay, warning aside, let's begin this next round of _'Whose Mind is it, Anyway?'_**

 _This one's from a musical..._

* * *

Anger stood in disbelief as Fear trembled beside her. "Oh, no..." the purple emotion muttered, "Oh no oh no no no no no..."

Flinging her hands up into the air, Anger screamed, " _You fool_ _!_ " and then slammed them down into the console, damaging it. Not that the two fresh dents made much of a difference; its once-shining brass frame had been reduced to a bent, bruised, and battered network of copper cogs, wooden gears, and a slew of steam pipes whose functionality was falling by the day.

"Calm down, there, Anger, calm down-" Fear began, but was punched away for his efforts.

Snarling, Anger turned back to the window above. The scared face of their "friend" stared back at them. He was trying to explain himself, but Anger was having none of it. She let loose a roar, then threw the console into overdrive, scaring the young man out of the room and away from the building. "Good riddance," Anger added, "Stay away and don't come back!"

Red memory orbs came roaring in, clattering to the ground as they came. Fear scurried over and did his part to pick them up and pile them back in some semblance of order, but as he tried, Headquarters began shaking violently. "Not again!" he shouted. He dropped the orbs as quickly as he'd picked them up, then ran over to the steam engine in the room's center. Pulling a crank, it rotated and swiveled, and the core memories came up. Their flickering lights looked like the fighting, struggling kicks of an animal dying. Fear bit his nails, trying hard to remember what to do. _'Joy,'_ he thought to himself, _'Why can't you be here now? Why?'_ Joy was the one who first attacked the console over a decade ago in a fit of rage. It was a contradiction, the happiest emotion feeling so full of turmoil and anger, but it's what happened - and nobody could reign her in. She attacked them all, damaged the station, and very nearly shut it down completely. Only quick thinking on Fear's part allowed the mind workers to arrive in time to drag the rogue emotion off to the subconscious, "Until she could be rehabilitated."

She had never come back.

And now, even more violently than ever before, Headquarters was shaking, and Fear was doing his best to keep things held together. The core memories struggled and fought as he tried to keep them steady, but to no avail; every time he shoved one back into place, another came loose.

While his purple coworker was fighting the orbs, Sadness had run up and convinced Anger to let him handle the situation. Anger shoved himself away from the controls, head alight. Sadness stepped in. That, at least, let headquarters stop shaking. The metal walls slowed to a steady vibration and the emergency cooling system came to life; water flooded the heated metal area, letting steam rise and moisten the air around. Sadness looked up at the outside world, where they had collapsed into a chair, hands buried in their face and crying their worries away.

Hesitantly, Fear let go of the cores and tried comforting Anger. He tried substituting for Joy, tried explaining. He tried to show that they need not worry, and that everything was going to be fine. He sounded as convinced as he felt, and Anger knew it. The hot-headed feeling shoved Fear away and yelled at him, "It's not okay!"

Stuttering, Fear said, "B-But we can just wait; there's still- we have time! We can still fix-"

"Fix this?!" Anger yelled, pushing Fear again, "We can't! It's too late! This whole place is going to fall apart!"

It was about that time that Disgust showed up from below. "What on Earth is going on?!" he demanded, "Why are we-"

Then he saw the screen, glanced at the memories, and it all made sense. His face contorted into an image of pure contempt, and he marched over to the controls. "So... he got away, didn't he? I've told you once," he said, jerking a handle into place, breaking it in the process, "I've told you a thousand times; but you never listen to me!"

Sadness scoffed, "It's because you never make any sense! Why cast the blame on-"

" _But It's true!_ It's _their_ fault!" He gestured his green hands at the window, indicating the brick buildings and city far outside. " _They_ are to blame!"

"Wh-who?" Fear asked from the back.

" _Everyone!_ " Disgust shouted at him. He turned around, matching Fear's eye, challenging him to contradict it, " _It's this miserable city that's ruining us!_ "

"It's their wretched laws!" Anger added.

"Exactly!" Disgust said, " _They're to blame!_ Those pathetic rats don't deserve the _pavement they walk on!_ "

"E-E-Even if that's true..." Fear tried saying, scrambling away from Anger and Disgust as the advanced on him, "Even if it's true; what can we do about it? _Huh? What can we-_ "

"Ahem."

Everyone looked up and froze in place.

Amid the violently shaking headquarters and the puddles of hot water, a single glowing figure was descending from the train-of-thought's platform outside.

Her white gown was untouched by time, and her flowing hair and wonderful, beautiful eyes were only matched in brightness by the physical radiance of her glow. In fact, she looked to be the epitome of virtue. It was everywhere, all over her as she took slow, deliberate steps down to the others. They all made a move away from Joy, as though she were a dangerous, rabid animal. It was her grin. It was a large, awful, toothy sneer, accompanied by a soft, menacing chuckle, clicking away from the back of her throat like some sort of clockwork. In her hand was held a single idea-lamp. "Did you miss me?" she asked.

"Where were you?" Anger asked.

As she dove into a story about how she busted out of the subconscious in time to hitchhike up, Sadness snuck around and helped Fear to his feet. "You okay?" he asked.

"No!" Fear hissed, "Get security up here!"

"I'll try..." Sadness muttered, adjusting his suspenders, "But there's nothing we can do now. If they see us try to stop Joy, we're dead."

Fear was about to reply, but then he noticed the way Disgust and Anger looked at Joy, with awe filling their features to the brim. Never mind how that grin was a little _too_ bright, never mind how those eyes gleamed _too_ happily; in the eyes of Anger and Disgust, Joy was a savior, come to sweep up the mess and set things right. Only Sadness and Fear were well aware of how far gone she was.

Casually, the two stepped to join the others, trying to draw as little attention as possible. Joy was just finishing her tale, and happened to catch Fear's glance.

He couldn't help but shudder, and she noticed. With a soft touch on his shoulder, she patted him comfortingly, saying, "Now, now, don't be so alarmed; I've come back because I finally found my way... after all those years, I'm back... and you know what?" She looked around, frowning at the walls lined with red, blue, green, and purple, and the machinery rapidly running out of life. Then, flashing that smile again, she lifted up the idea-lamp, jangling it in front of the others, "I have _just_ the solution to our problems."

With a flick of her wrist, she shoved it into the console.

"What- what are you gonna do?" Fear said, unable to help himself.

Joy beamed. "I'm glad you asked - we're gonna kill them!"

Even Anger flinched at that.

"What?" The purple emotion tripped and landed back on the ground as he backed away from Joy.

"You heard me," Joy said, taking a lunging step forward every time Fear stepped back, "We're gonna kill them! It's brilliant, isn't it?"

"Who are- you don't- we can't-"

"We're gonna kill each and every one of them! _Everyone!_ They deserve it, after all!"

"You can't be _serious!_ We'll be caught! We'll be hung! And what comes after that? What if we burn in-"

Joy smacked him. "Don't be ridiculous! We can't be punished for doing a public service; as a matter of fact, when we finally do bite the big one..." at this, she gazed up into the ceiling, as if she could see beyond it, "Heaven's gates will swing wide open for us!" She began pacing around, gesturing wildly as she explained, "There are only two types, ladies and gents: good and bad. Nice and mean. Virtuous and evil. Now, obviously, if someone's evil, they should be killed right away, so they can't perpetuate their deeds any more! And then they'll face a higher judge, one who will ensure they get _exactly_ what they deserve!"

"But what about the innocents?" Fear said, hoping against hope that he could find a way to call the mind workers again.

"Hahahahah! Oh, Fear," Joy said, "That's easy: they - too - must die, and be relieved from the horrid suffering this world has to offer!" Gesturing at the broken machinery all around her, she added, "Why allow anyone else to go through _this?_ The least we can do is spare them that fate! Who's with me?!"

"Yes!" Anger yelled.

"Agreed!" Shouted Disgust.

"Y-Yeah..." Fear said, glad that none could see through his lie.

Suddenly, a bright blue light lit up, and they all turned to see Sadness tinkering with the controls.

"What do you think you're _doing?_ " Joy demanded.

The pudgy emotion spun around and - without missing a beat - began crying, "But our family! It's gone! We might have a purpose, but- but they're gone! Can't you see that, Joy?" He threw a weak gesture at the screen, trying desperately to stall Joy's plan. "We have to have time to mourn, we-"

But Joy snapped her fingers, and Anger dove, tackling Sadness away. "We're finished here!" Anger shouted, "No more mourning! It's time!"

Joy seized the mostly-ruined controls, and the mind shook yet again as she looked out the window. Sadness flung Anger off, then leaped to his feet and began wrestling the controls away from Joy - blatantly insisting that they needed the time to mourn, that they couldn't act yet. The harder he struggled, the more she fought back. The two fought recklessly over the controls, damaging the console more and more with each push and pull, until Joy won out at last. Kicking Sadness away, she slammed her fist into a button, and a blinding golden glow erupted. A new memory.

A new core memory.

Joy picked it up, gazing at it for some time, before she began laughing. It started as that ticking chuckle in the back of her throat, slowly growing until a torrent of guffaws blew up in the room. Her laughter grew and grew, and she barely had the strength to catch her breath as she yelled, "We have it!" She walked to the center of the room and pulled up the main engine. She threw away all but two of the cores; a red one and a golden one.

Soon this new, brightly shining core was placed in and a new personality island jolted to life outside; _Salvation Island_.

Joy's smile grew and grew. In the back, Fear helped Sadness to his feet. Seeing that nobody else was looking, they ran off to another room to discuss a plan. Joy's smile only got bigger, and - laughing that wretched laugh again - she climbed the engine in the middle and threw her arms in the air, shouting, " _I'm back at last!"_

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a sullen barber stood in the middle of his bare room and shouted, "I'm alive at last, and I'm full of _joy!_ "

Hands frozen in the air, he was staring up into the ceiling. Silence quickly descended. It enveloped the shop like a blanket, and seemed to freeze time in place. Across from Sweeney Todd, the only other person - Mrs. Lovett - broke the quiet.

"That's all very well," she said, as casually as if they were discussing plans for the weekend and _not_ talking about mass murder, "But all that matters now is _him_." She gestured to the trunk where they'd stored the dead body from earlier. "Listen to me," she said, "Can you hear me?" Taking a few more steps closer, she leaned in and asked, "What are we gonna do 'bout 'im?"

After a thoughtful pause, Sweeney nodded and said, "Later on, when it's dark, we'll take him to some secret place and bury him..."

* * *

 _And that's it! Told you it was dark. Anyways, what were the clues I gave for this one? Well, I hope it wasn't too vague, but here they were._

 _1\. The control room was in shambles, so - clearly - it's someone who isn't thinking straight, whose mind is broken._

 _2\. Everything's powered by steam - so the person's likely from the Victorian era. This is supposed to be enforced by the lamps that are used as idea bulbs._

 _3\. Joy was mentioned as having been gone for over a decade. In the play, it was fifteen years since Sweeney Todd was taken from his wife and child and sent away to a prisoner's camp for a crime he didn't commit. Also, Joy's being locked away all that time was supposed to reflect Sweeney's fate._

 _Also, the adjectives I used to describe Joy were similar to the ones Sweeney used to describe his wife. As I had pointed out to me in a PM - his wife was the only thing that brought him joy, so it's not too far of a stretch to think that Joy would resemble his wife in a way, looking "Beautiful" and "Virtuous," as Sweeney put it._

 _4\. Fear and Sadness were the only two emotions not bent on killing everyone; in the play, those were the only times Sweeney even hesitated - if he was scared he would be caught, or if he was too distracted by all the misery he'd been through. Also, note that Disgust referred to everyone else in the world as "rats" - this is a call out to how Sweeney views London: "The vermin of the world inhabit it."_

 _5\. The argument that Joy made to Fear, explaining why they ought to kill everyone that came in for a shave, was the same argument Sweeney made as he explained to Mrs. Lovett, "They all deserve to die.../Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.../Because, in all of the whole human race, Mrs. Lovett/There are two kinds of men, and only two/There's the one staying put in his proper place/And the one with his foot in the other one's face..." and "The lives of the wicked should be made brief/For the rest of us death will be a relief/We all deserve to die."_

 _Additionally, Sadness's attempts to intervene was supposed to reflect the mood swings Sweeney went through during the song, alternating between depression and elation. In the end, though, he says he feels "alive at last," and "full of joy!" signifying that his mind is officially gone for good, taken by the obsession with revenge on the world._

 _6\. The personality islands, though I didn't describe them, were supposed to be small hints; one was golden (his knowledge of being a barber) and one was red (his need for revenge against the corrupt Judge Turpin, who was responsible for all his suffering - that drive for vengeance never really left him, even as he decided to kill everyone - Judge Turpin still was a special target in his mind)._


	3. A Bittersweet Evening

_Alright, this one might be a bit more obscure, but - then again - perhaps I've given too much away with it. Oh well, either way, here we go! This one's from a movie (adapted from a book)..._

* * *

Sighing, Anger let go of the controls. "I just..." he said, but his voice trailed off. Behind him, Joy said nothing. Anger brushed his hands off on his clothes, saying, "Okay, I know I'm not needed anymore today..." He began walking away. "Just... just promise me one thing," he said to Joy, who remained as still as a statue, "Please... _please_ don't get our hopes up too high..." Voice breaking slightly, he added - mostly to himself, "It's the last thing we need right now."

With that, the short emotion shuffled out of the main room, scarcely breaking the silence that was left behind as he closed the heavy oak doors behind him. He'd retired for the evening, seeing as it would be only a few more minutes before the time to sleep arrived. This left only Sadness and Joy alone, surrounded by the stone walls whose shelves held memories all from the day, which were at first glowing bright and golden, with only a hint of purple or blue interfering. Purple then began mixing in, creating an exciting tapestry of yellow and violet that wove its way down the circular shelves, before purple overtook it all, followed by a near-endless stream of blue. This stretching expanse reached nearly to the present, when it was intercepted by golden and - in one case - a burning orb of red, having just taken up residence beside the others.

Joy still stood motionless.

"Joy?" Sadness asked. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

The golden emotion brushed away his friend's hand. "Anger's right," he said, moving to a nearby pew and slumping down, "I shouldn't raise our hopes too high."

Sadness stood only for a moment before finding the words she wanted. "You know," she said, "that feeling we get, when it's late at night, looking out there?" She gestured to the stained-glass window above, whose shapes were constantly shifting and sliding to reflect what the outside world was like. Joy said nothing. "When we see others walking, holding hands and embracing?" There was no reply, save a flicker of Joy's eyes as he shifted in his seat, and the faintest twitch of a smile across his face. "You know what I've always thought? I've always thought I could catch... well, catch a glimpse of what Heaven must feel like..."

Hesitantly, she sat down next to Joy.

"And," she continued, "I know- I know that..." Swallowing, she held back her tears. Now wasn't the time for her to cry. Now was the time to get Joy over to those ropes and levers and handles, and for him to do his job. "I know that there's not a chance we'd ever find someone for us. It's... it's just how we are. How we look... But, still..."

Standing up, the small blue emotion walked to one of the more recent memories. Tenderly, as if it were a baby, she removed it from the shelves and caressed it. It wasn't a mix of feelings; that moment was pure joy. She walked over and slid it in front of the candle that was constantly lit at the room's center. Softly, the golden memory came to life in front of them, and the two emotions stared transfixed as the scene unfolded like a play; the woman had a beautiful smile on her face as she placed an angelic kiss on their cheek. As soon as the moment returned, it ended. Sadness moved to take it, but Joy stopped her.

He quietly took it and played it back, once more, his eyes not leaving the window above.

"She didn't care," Sadness said.

After another silent moment, Joy shook his head. "No, she didn't... not even a little." All was quiet as he smiled. He moved timidly over to the levers, and then pulled a few. "Don't... don't take it down just yet..." he said.

"I won't," said Sadness.

After a moment, Joy found himself at the forest of levers' edge, straining to reach the other side, but - as lanky as he was - he simply couldn't. Meekly, he spoke up. "S-Sadness?"

"Yes?"

"Could you... could you please help me?"

She just nodded, and walked over to the rope on the opposite end, and gave it a yank. They continued their work, though it didn't take long, and soon their latest masterpiece was complete. The small blue emotion removed the replaying memory from its pedestal.

"Sadness!" Joy whispered, his voice full of wonder.

"What?"

But Joy was at a loss for words. Instead, he simply pointed as a blue-and-golden light, burning blindingly in the dark room, rolled down the carved stone path in the floor. The two emotions stared at it in wonder. It rolled down the chiseled groove with a peaceful noise, not rushed nor agitated in the least. It slowed to a stop, ready for someone to take it and put it in its proper place. Sadness moved to do so, but Joy stopped her.

"Wait," he said, "Can I?"

She nodded, stepping out of the way as Joy walked and picked up the core memory. His bare feet made a muted shuffling noise over the stone floor as he walked to the newly-formed statue, whose hands were held out to receive the core. He placed it in, and the circle of rock figures retreated into the floor.

Joy and Sadness walked up the stairs to the outside balcony, gazing in awe at the birth of _Love Island_. Without thinking, Joy wrapped his arm around Sadness, feeling quite on the brink of tears.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a man with a hunched back had just finished painting a small wooden figurine. It was quite a likeness of Esmarelda, the gypsy woman who had taken his heart and run off with it earlier that evening. She hadn't screamed at his hideous face, nor shrunk from his limping form, but smiled - actually smiled - and kissed him before leaving Notre Dame. Was it foolish to entertain the hope he had? Did he care?

"As I ring these bells tonight," Quasimodo sung to himself, smiling. He gently placed the figure next to his own, "My cold, dark, tower seems so bright..."

Reaching up to the well-worn rope, he wrapped his calloused fingers around its spiraled surface and began ringing the evening bells. The gleaming bronze figures came to life, and bid the city of Paris goodnight as they danced at the top of the cathedral.

"I feel it must be Heaven's light!"

* * *

 _Okay, I felt like this one was_ way _more obvious than the others, but - as usual - here are the hints I dropped throughout:_

 _1\. I based the entire composition of Quasimodo's mind on the one place he'd known his whole life, Notre Dame cathederal, what with the bell ropes and levers acting as the controls, the stonework, the statues as the memory core holders, the pews and candlelights, and - of course - the stained glass window that shifted shapes to reflect what was happening outside._

 _2\. Anger was at the front because I picked up in the movie right when Quasimodo recalls himself having the "ugliest face in all of Paris," with a bit of resentment in his voice. I would've gone with disgust, but I think it didn't feel like the right emotion (though, let's be honest, this is an art, not a science)._

 _3\. This was really a tender, sweet moment in the movie, and I felt like the two most prominent emotions were Sadness and Joy, as I portrayed them here. Sadness reflected on how ugly Quasimodo was, but then reminded Joy that that's what made Esmarelda's friendship (if not love) so much more special to him. He'd never felt loved before in his entire life (which - side note - as a Christian, I feel is just plain awful, considering he was raised in a_ church! _Then again, one of the themes of the story was hypocrisy. But that doesn't really play a factor in this scene, anyways, so I digress)._

 _4\. I sincerely believe Quasimodo's interaction with Esemeralda and the introspection that followed would - without a doubt - create a core memory; a bittersweet one, the formation of Love Island. I think the name is tacky, but I really couldn't come up with another one._

 _5\. Sadness's and Joy's (for what little he spoke) dialogue reflected the pattern of the song, "Heaven's Light," which - of course - Quasimodo just finished at the end of this chapter. I won't go into detail, as I don't want to clog this up with a bunch of lyrics. You can look it up and compare, if you want, to see what I'm talking about._


	4. Removing the Problem

_This one's from a movie based off of a comic book._

* * *

HQ was neat, orderly. It was in pristine condition, and Disgust had always made sure to keep it that way. As she walked down its polished chrome floor and the rows of vertically organized memories, she adjusted her business blouse ever so slightly, making sure it was perfectly symmetrical and orderly. She approached the monitor, her heels clicking gently off the ground. As she stepped up to the control panel, she cleared her throat, getting the attention of the others, who all straightened up and spun around to attention. "Alright," she said, "Status?"

Anger spoke up first. "We're feeling resentment," she said, looking up at the screen where a man stood, facing away from them. The sight wouldn't be unusual, save for the fact that the man was using the restroom and had no clue they were there. Oh well. "After all, that's the one that doubted us."

"Yes, yes, yes," Disgust said with a half-interested air, "All things I already know. So everything in your department is as I left it?"

"Yes," nodded Anger.

"Good. Fear?"

"Nothing to report," she responded with a shrug.

"Really?" Disgust raised an eyebrow at that. "What we're about to do isn't exactly legal."

"Well," said Fear with a laugh, "We're above concepts of legal and illegal now, aren't we?"

Disgust shrugged her shoulders. "Fair enough, I suppose. Sadness?"

"Only one thing," said Sadness, "and a small one at that."

"Which is?"

"Oh, with him dead, we'll never get an investment."

"A small price to pay, wouldn't you say?"

"Certainly, ma'am."

"I figured you'd be in agreement." Disgust flashed a perfect smile, white pearly teeth lined up unnervingly straight. She looked up at Joy. "Okay, tall man," she said, "Are you ready?"

Joy had barely constrained excitement plastered all over his face. With a trembling, excited voice, he replied, "Absolutely! I-... Uh, I mean," he straightened himself up, cleared his throat, and said, "Yes, very much looking forward to it."

"Good!" declared Disgust, "Then let's get to our stations, people... Oh, and Fear?"

She looked up at her leader. "Ma'am?"

"You're not needed right now. I need another macchiato with soy milk and some extra caramel, but hold the sugar."

"Okay," she said, stepping off at a brisk pace to retrieve the requested item.

Relaxing into her chair (but maintaining her dress's crease-free state as best she could) Disgust reflected on the what was about to happen. It made her smile. She loved removing problems - it was her job, after all, and now they were about to make their host remove a problem of their own.

The man in front of them flushed, zipped up his pants, and turned around. He was visibly startled at the sight of someone watching him.

"Anger," Disgust commanded, "strike up a conversation, but keep it nice."

"Yes, ma'am," she said, cracking her knuckles and beginning. The man up on screen had a disturbed look on his face as dialogue commenced, but he tried to maintain his composure. They made small talk, stuff about going above and beyond the laws of nature... or, well, _they_ did; the man was really at a loss for words. Disgust looked at the screen, repulsed, as if the man's presence alone were filthy. It was at that time that Fear returned with Disgust's drink.

"Ah, thank you," the green emotion said. As she looked over, she caught sight of Joy, who was beginning to tremble with anticipation. She rolled her eyes, sipped her Macchiato, then cleared her throat. "Fear," She said, gesturing at Joy.

The purple emotion noticed right away and proceeded to intervene. "Hang on... hang on..." Fear said as she grabbed him firmly by the shoulder, making sure that Joy didn't do anything impulsive, "We need to make sure our timing is right..."

The golden emotion bit his lip and squirmed in his seat, like a child unable to wait to open a Christmas present. Seconds bled out for all eternity, it seemed, stretching longer and longer than they needed to. At last, though, after what had to be the longest minute in his life, he heard Disgust say, "Now!"

"Eeeeheeee!" Joy squealed delightfully. He shoved a lever forward. The monitor showed it all crisp and clear. In less than a second, the man was dead. They did it quick, they did it efficiently, they did it cleanly, and - of course - Joy enjoyed it immensely.

"Woohoo!" he said.

Disgust beamed at the sight, sipping her drink. She casually pressed a button, and they began removing evidence of what they'd done. A green orb came rolling in. It gently touched the golden one that was just made, the memory of them killing that man.

* * *

 _Meanwhile, on the outside, Darren Cross bent over with his napkin, proceeding to wipe up the remains of the man he'd only known as 'Frank,' a potential investor who wasn't too keen on the Yellowjacket suit's capabilities. He was very stupid; what was so wrong with an army, an army of soldiers no bigger than an insect, capable of shrinking down and infiltrating anywhere unseen? It was the future, and poor Frank was now the past. Cross bent over with a napkin, wiping up what was left of Frank - a puddle of biological matter no bigger than a quarter._

 _"We still have a few bugs to work out," he said with a smile. He stood up and crumpled up the napkin, walking over to the toilet. He promptly chucked the remains in and flushed them away. "Goodbye, Frank," he added as he walked over to wash his hands. After all, cleanliness is next to godliness, and he'd already achieved one of those - best not slack on the other._

* * *

 _Alright, this one was a little short, I'll give you that, but it's only because the scene didn't require much length. In case you haven't gotten it right, it's from the film "Ant Man," (very recent, I know), the part where Darren Cross uses a defective shrinking device to kill someone who didn't see eye to eye with his vision of the Yellowjacket project. The hints I gave were:_

 _1\. First of all, HQ and the emotions in it were very neat and orderly. Everything was about perfection and being structured. Cross struck me as a neat freak in the movie, albeit one who was utterly psychotic._

 _2\. Cross's entire character is driven by Disgust. He's disgusted by everyone who's not him, and he's especially disgusted with Hank Pym for failing him as a mentor (in his eyes). Cross has a lot of issues, and I wanted that to come through by Disgust's detached actions and attitude. Speaking of which..._

 _3\. The emotions' behaviors were all so business like; we're in the mind of a businessman. However, they're also detached completely from what's going on, living in their own little world, completely oblivious to the fact that they're about to kill a man in cold blood. No, the most emotion they register is a bit of repulsion at the man's mess he left behind. Or, rather, that is almost the only emotion..._

 _4\. Joy was looking forward to killing someone. If that isn't a sign of poor mental health, I don't know what is. Pay attention to Cross's body language in that scene; he is very much enjoying the power he has, like a child given a toy - hence I also included the "Christmas present" analogy._

 _So, in the end, yes - this was the mind of a psychopath - but it wasn't intended to be like Sweeney's mind. Whereas Sweeney's mind was battered and ruined, Cross's was in perfect working condition... he was just insane with power, and his emotions showed it. My apologies if this one was too hard or too easy, by the way - it's hard to judge sometimes how it's going to turn out._

 _Also, if you're worried about this movie having been spoiled for you, don't! This scene is very early on in the film, and it is not a big surprise that Darren Cross is a nutjob._


	5. Stage Fright

**A/N: Last time, people got slightly confused because of the genders of the emotions - they were almost exclusively female while their host was a male. I'll say it again: In this fanfic, the emotion genders are randomized. Literally. I actually go out of my way to flip a coin five times to determine if the emotions gender is male or female. It literally has no bearing on who we're discussing. So, potentially, there could be a female character with nothing but male emotions, or vice-versa, or even a mixed bag of emotions (which will usually be the case). Therefore, please don't take the emotion genders into account. They are randomized for the sake of breaking up the monotony and not letting each chapter sound the same.**

 **That being said, however, let's get started on another one of these games. I'm seriously having fun writing these.**

* * *

 _This one's from a cartoon show._

* * *

In headquarters, nothing could be seen but blue and purple orbs lining the carved shelves. The wooden structures wrapped around the room like a canvas of depression, finally coming to a rest on the opposite side of the monitor (whose view was currently relegated to the ground as the person trotted wearily along their way, head to the ground and feeling miserable). In front of this gloomy sight, five equally upset emotions stood in front of a granite console flecked with a variety of wooden buttons and gears. It was strictly for artistic purposes, of course - just like everything else in HQ, from the pointless marble statues to the woven rug centered behind them. Actually, some of the art got in the way of function. For example, that rug frequently found itself having to be moved whenever core memories needed to be pulled up. "Nonetheless," Joy had frequently said through his gleaming smile, "Art is art for its own sake, and moving a rug is hardly a big price to pay for the sake of a well-decorated room!"

And all the emotions, even Anger, had to agree on that point - the room _was_ well-decorated. Decor was far from their mind at the time, though. Anger was off in a corner, boiling himself some strong black tea and grumbling under his breath. The water's simmering form very much matched his resentment at the moment. Disgust, their leader, would probably agree. He was standing at the console, scratching his head and trying to figure out a really good insult for the jerk who got them into this mess... assuming they ran into him again. Fear was currently tapping a button, reminding them of just how close they were to a crisis - they needed to act soon. Beside him, Sadness was looking as sullen as ever. Her blue polo still had wet teardrops smearing it as she dabbed away with a tissue, still sniffling somewhat. Her free hand was busy pressing a button. Over on the far side of the room, Joy sat on a couch, his slouching back arched limply forward. Just above his squished cheeks (resting in his hands), his eyes were staring through the ground as he lost himself in his own thoughts.

He felt pressured to do something, but he knew better. He was never one to act unless he had permission, and - while nobody ever interfered or stifled his job - the sad fact was that he wasn't needed much lately. And that made him feel pretty awful. _Clink._ He looked up from his introspection to see another blue orb roll in. He sighed and returned to his thoughts. The clink and the sigh were the only two noises that had been made in HQ for a while... well, apart from Sadness's whimpering and sniffing.

They all jerked their heads up and looked at the screen - there he was. Anger gritted his teeth. Disgust scowled. Joy gulped. Sadness moaned. And Fear? Well, he stuttered out, "Ah! No! No, no no! He's not supposed to be here! He-"

"The jerk!" Anger declared, smashing his tea on the ground, "He _lied_ to us, and now he wants to watch us squirm!"

Disgust hissed between gritted teeth, about to come up with the best insult he could find, when their enemy pointed behind them. They spun around. Fear nearly had a heart attack at the sight - there they were; their "friends" who had helped them out so far, looking all too eager to continue their assisting. Disgust slapped himself in the face before saying, "The _idiots!_ We're as good as dead."

Fear wished they were anywhere else right now. Or dead. That might even be better than the utter humiliation they were about to undergo. Nonetheless, there wasn't a thing to do but give in to the overwhelming situation at hand. As they trudged down the dark corridor towards the auditorium, heart pounding and spirits low, Fear secretly hoped a disaster would strike, something like an earthquake - to take all eyes off of them and how terribly they were about to perform. As they situated themselves, Disgust took a moment to appreciate just how awful the crowd looked, jam-packed in the auditorium. The stage fright remained, nonetheless. In fact, the jostling mass of people only compounded the stage fright, and Disgust - reminding Fear of how humiliating it would be to back out now, with all eyes on them - coaxed Fear into following through. Eyes squinted shut, they gave their friends the cue to begin.

Then their eyes shot open once more. Joy jumped up and ran over to the console. "What is..." he said, mouth agape, expression matching his coworkers' exactly. Shock. Utter shock. "They... they're not embarrassing us!"

As the performance continued, each passing second saw a grin grow wider and wider across Joy's face. The crowd was cheering them on! They were doing it... they were _actually_ pulling it off! Fear collapsed onto the couch, sighing in relief. Sadness sniffed, her grin accompanied by warm tears of pure happiness. Disgust and Anger exchanged looks, nodded, and then turned to Joy. Disgust cleared his throat.

Joy didn't hear it. He was too entranced by the sight. For the first time in a long time, a stream of golden orbs was rolling in and collecting among the others. Each and every one was well-earned, and Joy was reveling in the moment.

Disgust cleared his throat once more, more emphatic this time. It caught his golden friend's attention. Turning around, that smile remained affixed to his features.

"How's that jerk doing now?" Disgust asked.

"Yeah!" Anger snapped, "I wanna see the look on his snide face!"

"With pleasure!" Joy announced, twisting a knob. They spun around to witness said jerk looking absolutely stunned. You could practically see his ego shatter to pieces at the sight. At once, Disgust and Anger coordinated with Joy to create a well-earned sneer of victory. Their enemy simply collapsed in shock, unable to process the defeat that was now swallowing him as the performance went off without a hitch.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, as the band revved up their song into high gear, Squidward felt nothing short of elation. _"Sweet victory,"_ indeed! The horrified look on Squilliam's frozen face was worth every ounce of stress, fear, and depression. Well, almost every ounce. He could've gone without the dreadful anticipation of utter failure, and the snide remarks from that big-nosed, unibrow-toting jerk, but - nonetheless - he was happy. In front of him, his band, a collective group of decidedly non-musical Bikini Bottomites, was energizing the crowd beyond belief. He didn't even bother thinking about how they did it without even a single successful night of practice. Trying to recall every Bubble Bowl performance he'd seen, Squidward found that he couldn't think of a single performance that matched with this... his!

He leapt into the air, finally free of his dread and worry, as the chorus kicked in again. This was the best day of his life.

* * *

 _So, yes. This was Squidward, from the SpongeBob Squarepants episode, "Band Geeks." As I researched SpongeBob episodes for this chapter, I found that "Band Geeks" was - hands down - the most iconic and popular. So I used it!_ _The clues this time were:_

 _1\. The artistic environment of HQ. The fact that there was so much cultural decor - even at the expense of functionality - shows that we're in the head of someone who loves art, to the point where their love of it might get in the way of their life on occasion._

 _2\. Disgust as the leader. This was a subtle one, but - come on - you know it's true. Squidward is very arrogant and very much disgusted frequently by everyone around him. Sure, he's got his moments that show he's not completely calloused (that "Pizza Delivery" episode comes to mind), but generally speaking, you wouldn't be wrong to say he's a jerk._

 _3\. The "jerk" who was ruining his life. This - of course - was Squilliam Fancyson, Squidward's arch nemesis. Accurately enough, he's the one who put him into this situation (albeit by playing off Squidward's own ego) and he's the one who was wanting to see Squidward miserably fail, if only out of spite._

 _4\. Sadness had a polo on. This conjures up an image of a blue person wearing a polo. Sound familiar? It was a subtle clue, but I put it there to ensure that the image was in the back of your head. I know I didn't specify what color the polo was, but - seriously - that would be too easy, I believe._

 _5\. The blue and purple orbs for the day are - of course - significant in that they were all Squidward had felt that day from the moment he woke up. Nervous, sad, and terrified of the event coming up, is it any wonder that none of the other emotions had much (if any) influence?_

 _So, in case it's not clear, I'll be blunt - this one started as Squidward was walking up to the stadium, and ended when he leaped up into the air in celebration (the final shot of the episode, I might add). I'm well aware that this is very spoiler-heavy. Nonetheless, this could possibly be the most iconic SpongeBob episode, and Squidward was the main character - this was_ his _moment to shine. I couldn't pick any other scene. I simply_ had _to go with this one._


	6. On High Alert

**Temporary Author's Note:** **My sincere apologies for the HUGE delay; I had things come up that demanded my attention, and - by the time I sat down to type this out and submit it - lo and behold, 503 error for the rest of the day. So, again, my apologies. I've had this one ready for a day by now, but wasn't able to submit it until now. Still, better late than never, right?**

* * *

 _This one's from a Video Game_

* * *

The sleeping quarters' cold temperature. That was the first thing Fear noticed on awaking, thanks in no small part to the shivers she felt and the fog exiting her breath. It didn't bother her, though; this was standard procedure. As she stepped out of her pod and onto the tiled floor of the sleeping chamber, she noted that she was the first one awake, though the others were coming to as well. Nodding in satisfaction, she leaned over her pod and double-tapped a button. With a hiss, the pod rotated and slid open, revealing her clothes - a lavender military dress uniform with four stripes on the sleeves and shoulders, accompanied by a star. She slipped into the garb, pinned the silver eagle to her collar, and placed the cap on in far less than a minute. By the time the others were getting prepped, she had left the sleeping quarters and arrived in the control room.

The others arrived soon after, each snapping a salute accompanied by the word, "Captain," each greeted with an, "At ease," and those were the only words spoken between the group. Anger took her position next to Fear, straightening out the Lieutenant's badge on her collar. Opposite her, Junior Lt. Joy had taken his seat, rigidly observing the monitor. Ensigns Sadness and Disgust took their positions at the far ends of the controls. Not a word was spoken between any of them apart from the standard formalities as their eyes remained locked on the screen.

The sight was usual. In fact, regardless of what state they woke up in, the emotions were always orderly, silent, and business-only; the way they'd been trained all their lives, and they intended to keep it that way. Based on the emotional reactions, one wouldn't be able to tell if they were in combat, in a mess hall, or at an awards ceremony; it was all the same to them. Only the smallest of differences dictated each situation. It's no wonder, then, that the purple memory orb rolling in was nearly gray as the five soldiers observed and reacted (or refrained from reacting) to what they saw. Fear strummed her fingers against the console, indicating their shared nervousness though not going beyond that. After a moment's deliberation, she pressed a button and leaned over to a microphone. "Train of thought," she said, "Come in, this is Captain Fear. Status?"

A southern drawl returned her reply, "Ma'am," it said, "Orders are being taken out of the factory immediately. Standard protocols being shipped up. Full operational capacity."

"Good. Let me know if there are any snags. Other than that, proceed as normal."

"Understood, ma'am. Train of Thought out."

As soon as the burst of static signified the cut connection, Fear looked over at one of her Ensigns. "Sadness," she said, "status of the situation?"

"Ma'am," Sadness said as he saluted, "Detecting high levels of anxiety coming from the technician speaking with us."

"Hypothesize the cause."

"I suspect we've been followed."

A second of silence filled the room as each emotion processed it, displaying their full extent of influence at the time; a microscopic sloop of the shoulders from Sadness, a whispered sigh from Disgust, a "hmm…" from Joy, a slight tightening of Anger's jaw, and another strum of the fingers from Fear. To the untrained eye, it would look like they were mildly inconvenienced by the thought of the enemy trailing them. In reality, they were profoundly upset.

"Alright," Fear said, "all required hands input emotional reactions right now. Everyone else, prep battle stations."

A series of "Aye's" filled the air as the group went to work, some gently nudging the controls, some punching in orders for memory recalls. A buzzer sounded at the door. Anger went to retrieve the boxes of facts that had arrived on the Train of Thought, precisely on schedule as usual. She marched briskly back with the package and distributed the contents around to the necessary stations, sliding some of the small chips into their appropriate slots. All while this was occurring, Fear was suspiciously eyeing the monitor.

Up on screen, the technician that had greeted them was running them through standard checkup procedures, to ensure they weren't experiencing any disorientations or side effects from the time they spent asleep. This was standard procedure as well, and Fear did not even need to input the proper commands as their host responded and reacted correctly to the necessary medical tests. No, instead, Fear made sure they paid subtle attention to the background - where a doorway was - and up above them - where an observation bay rested, another technician watching the proceedings from above.

"Ma'am," Anger saluted, "Logic distributed and emergency proceedings in effect. HQ is on high alert for potential combat situation. Orders, ma'am?"

Fear was about to give them, when an explosion forced their attention to the screen. Nobody flinched. Nobody even blinked. Nonetheless, they were all startled as the observation deck turned into a blood bath. Enemies had broken in and slaughtered the unfortunate technician up above before moving on, disappearing like phantoms as soon as they'd showed themselves.

Fear forcefully pressed a "red alert" button, and klaxons blared around HQ. She leaned to the intercom. "Captain Fear to all units. Captain Fear to all units. This is not a drill. We are in a combat situation as of right now. All units to battle stations."

"Ma'am," Anger asked, "Permission to feel mad at the enemy?"

"Granted," she said with a curt nod. Anger saluted and flicked a single switch, turning the console a faint hue of crimson, if only for a fraction of a second.

Fear looked at Ensign Sadness. "Heat Apathy to twenty-five point three two percent. Maintain levels until noted otherwise." Sadness saluted.

The commander looked to Disgust, saying, "Assist Anger as usual. Give her extra firepower as needed." Disgust nodded.

Fear looked to Joy. The others were all here for buildup, to prepare for battle (as in Anger and Disgust's case) to stay safe and follow orders (as in Fear's case), and to assist allies and civilians as needed (as in Sadness's case). Joy, however, had the unique position of reacting instead of acting. Joy maintained satisfaction at battles won, orders followed, and - most of all - enemies neutralized.

"Prepare for battle," Fear ordered. Joy nodded, understanding completely. The smallest smile flickered across his features faster than a bullet, and then was replaced with his standard straight face.

Not a second had been wasted, as usual. Cold efficiency had been infused as part of them, their training nothing short of the best the Marines had to offer, and so - from the time they woke up to their current, battle-ready status - only a meager one minute and seventeen seconds had passed.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, the wide-eyed technician only said one thing, voice cracking with terror as he saw his peer gunned down in the observation room: "We gotta go!"

He quickly suited his actions to match his words, and the towering giant he spoke to - the Master Chief, Spartan-117 - followed. A super soldier was hidden beneath that olive-green armor, and the combined power of his already augmented strength and his armor's sheer weight made it sound like muted thunder was pounding off the floor as he moved.

The two left the Pillar of Autumn's cryo bay and entered into a hall, the sounds of battle echoing off the tight compartment walls. Master Chief noted that the technician was utterly panicked. Not good, not in a combat situation. In fact, the entire situation was less than ideal. Neither of them had weapons (the tech didn't even have a standard service pistol for protection), and the lower ranking crewman was full of fear, making him more prone to enemy fire due to erratic decisions than he normally would be.

As stated, far from ideal.

"This way!" the crewman yelled, then darted off to the right. The Master Chief froze, and quickly calculated something he could see, but the tech couldn't. As soon as he saw the explosion begin, he knew he could do nothing to save the man. A small hint of remorse rubbed him as he saw the man get caught in the flaming blast, sent flying backwards and crashing into the ground. Instinctively, the Master Chief bent over the man to see if he was wounded and in need of medical attention. Negative - dead on impact.

The Chief mentally nodded to himself, then glanced across him, where an alternate route to Captain Keyes could be found. He was needed up top. That was his primary objective right now, and no delays could be afforded. The super soldier allowed only the smallest of emotions before storing them deep in the back of his mind. He then moved on, ready for battle.

And - he would readily admit if asked - eager to kill some Covenant.

* * *

 _Alright, another chapter down. So, if you still don't get it, this is from the opening level of the videogame 'Halo,' wherein the alien group known as 'the Covenant' is on a campaign to wipe out the human race. The ship you're on, 'the Pillar of Autumn' comes under attack by Covenant forces just as you (playing as Master Chief) wake up from cryo sleep. You then proceed to find the Captain, get your orders, grab a weapon, and slaughter aliens. I'm oversimplifying things, but that's the gist of it._

 _As for the hints:_

 _1\. The military ranks and uniforms. I am not a military expert, by the way - I just googled ranks on a standard Navy ship and proceeded to put in what I thought was correct. I chose the "ship" setup because Master Chief is this almost machine-like soldier, obeying orders to the letter and acting like a well-maintained weapon, basically. Yes, he does have emotions, but he is in complete control of them, and only ever shows them when absolutely pressed. But I'm getting off track - the subdued emotions are another hint. The first hint was the military state of things, so you know that this is someone who is in the military._

 _2\. The subdued emotions, as I said, are another hint. The fact that all the memory orbs we hear of are nearly gray with only tinges of the appropriate colors is an indication that it's someone who is not very emotional. They are in very good control of their feelings._

 _3\. The aesthetics (what ones I gave, that is (which were mostly in the opening)) indicated a science-fiction setting, what with the "pods" each emotion woke up in._

 _4\. The tech talking to them on the monitor and the tech that got slaughtered up in the observation bay are what happens in the opening level exactly; you wake up from cryosleep, a tech runs you through diagnostics to make sure you don't have side effects, and then the one watching up in the observation room gets killed as the Covenant breaks in and open fires._

 _5\. This hint was subtle, but it's there: when I explicitly say that they'd been trained "all their lives," it's not an exaggeration. In order to be the super soldier he is today, Master Chief had to be raised up from childhood, put through rigorous training, and eventually turned into the deadliest soldier in the human arsenal: a Spartan, a supersoldier in powered armor ready to blow the Covenant to kingdom come._

 _6\. One more tiny one, one that only works if you know what you're looking for, really, is that it took the emotions one minute and seventeen seconds to go to high alert. In other words, it took them 1:17. Master Chief's serial number is Spartan-117._

 _7\. Lastly, again a subtle one, Fear was in charge. It might seem strange, but bear with me. Here is the logic I followed: Master Chief's biggest concern is following orders. What drives him, therefore is a desire to achieve objectives, or - in other words - a fear of not achieving objectives. Therefore, Fear leads him to do as he's supposed to. Additionally, Master Chief is considered one of the bravest soldiers there is. In order for this to be true, he has to feel Fear. You see, bravery isn't the absence of Fear - it's doing what you need to do in spite of how scared you are. The more fearful you are, the more brave you are for acting despite your fears._


	7. Dream Job

**_My apologies for the shortness of this one, but - in all honesty - it didn't need to be very long. You'll get what I'm saying, I think. At any rate, please remember to stop when you see "Meanwhile, on the outside..." and make sure you've got your guess ready, and reread if you need to._**

 ** _This is your final warning: this is a_ short _chapter._**

* * *

 _This one's from a movie._

* * *

Everyone winced on the impact. Though none of them could physically feel their host slam into the floor, they knew what it felt like. More importantly, though, was their "friend" who had accompanied them. Joy, with his jaw jutting out as usual when he was in a grim mood, looked over to Sadness. "How's it looking?" he asked.

Sadness looked at a rapidly-printing piece of paper coming out of the console's sleek, minimalist surface; only the absolute necessary buttons and levers were present, and those - too - were customized to fit in with the room's heavily stylized aesthetics. Next to Joy, a single red lever rested. The lever was currently in its "active" position. When inactive, machinery whirred and the room shifted and morphed into an average-looking apartment-like area. However, when the lever was active (as was currently the case)...

Well, sharp curves, jet-black surfaces, and slanted angles jutted out everywhere, for nothing but style.

So, even as Sadness took out the thin piece of receipt-looking paper, it somehow looked _cool._

"Hmm," Sadness said, "Well, boys, we've got quite a problem. I think we've injured our man. And..." she sighed, "Well, it looks like he's not too happy with us for stepping in and delaying his meeting with God."

"Ungrateful," Anger said with a shake of his head. Disgust faintly nodded in agreement.

"Well," Fear said as he adjusted his constantly-slipping mask, "We'd better investigate this further, look up there!"

He turned a knob, and the monitor's contrast increased, bringing the black-and-white image further into focus. They were in a bank.

"Uh... so?" Disgust asked.

Fear raised a single eyebrow. Disgust suddenly got it. "Ah," he replied.

"Ah indeed," Fear concurred. Then, to Joy, "Sir, I think we could do worse than get our package out to safety and make sure this isn't what we think it is."

Joy nodded, "Agreed, let's rock, roll, and get this outta the way. We're not late yet, are we?"

"Uh..." Disgust began, but Fear cut him off.

"Nevermind," the purple emotion quickly added, "Please don't answer that."

"Fear's right," Sadness said, "We gotta focus on this situation, our date can wait."

Disgust scoffed at the understatement. "Date, indeed." But he didn't say another word. The group went right to work, getting the civilian to a safe location before investigating what was more than likely a trap...

Which was just fine to Joy. He couldn't suppress his smile. He loved a good trap. It made the bad guys look stupid when their precious plans go sideways, and - more importantly - it made _them_ look good. Very good. He chuckled to himself, thinking about how much he loved his job. The smile was quickly wiped from his face when the explosion happened.

"A trap!" Fear shouted, "I knew it!"

"Perfect," Anger snarled with a grin.

"I couldn't agree more," Joy added, cracking his knuckles, "Anger, could you get a few good taunts up?"

Having already pulled the cassette tapes out, the red emotion snickered to himself, "Way ahead of you, sir."

"Let's just make sure nobody else gets hurt," Sadness cautioned, "you boys play so rough sometimes..."

"Sadness," Joy said with his usual suave demeanor, "What's the fun in _not_ playing a little rough?"

As all the banter was going on, Disgust slouched over. Beneath that green mask of his, he was closing his eyes shut tightly and sighing heavily. _'We are so gonna be late,'_ he thought to himself.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, the heavy bank door was being pushed aside as Mr. Incredible confronted his arch nemesis. With a dramatic glare and an equally dramatic snarl, he said, "Bomb Voyage..."

The freaky French arsonist went slack-jawed, his smugness turning to indignation. "Monsieur Incroyable!" he declared in disgust.

Mr. Incredible was ready to rumble, his fists clenched and his jaw set, but the mood was killed - absolutely _killed_ \- by the whiny voice of a prepubescent little twerp.

"And IncrediBoy!" Buddy declared from across the room.

"IncrediBoy?" the confused villain asked.

Mr. Incredible simply sighed and hung his head in frustration. _'That's it,'_ he thought, _'I am_ not _going to be at the wedding on time. She's... she's gonna kill me.'_

* * *

 _Alright, so - yeah - this one was_ very _short. It didn't need to be any longer, though. I felt like this scene would have drug on had I added more and more detail, and I also feel like - if you've seen The Incredibles - this one would be fairly obvious right away:_

 _1\. The impact at the beginning was - of course - when Mr. Incredible rescued the one man from suicide._

 _2\. The style of the room, and how it could change from a normal apartment to a stylized, spy-like 50's control center, was supposed to be a huge hint that this took place in the Incredible's universe._

 _3\. The mask that I said Fear and Disgust had on was supposed to clue you in on them being in the mind of a superhero._

 _4\. Joy, obviously, thoroughly enjoying this was supposed to reflect Mr. Incredible's overall demeanor at the film's start - sure, he liked helping people, but come on - you could tell he was a little cocky and loved the excitement of it all, too, maybe even more than he liked helping people (though not by much - I'm not implying he's a bad guy, here, just that he gets very excited about crimefighting)._

 _5\. The reference to "bad guys" was another hint at a superhero._

 _6\. The monitor being black-and-white should naturally conjure up images of a time before color television, again hinting at the world of the Incredibles (at least near the start of the film)._

 _7\. Last of all, the references to "being late" were to re-enforce what was going on in the movie; at the back of Mr. Incredible's mind, he was constantly checking to see how close his wedding is, and always coming up with "I've still got time." Incidentally, this goes back to how much he loves his job._


	8. Business as Usual

_This one's from a poem._

* * *

HQ was simultaneously the busiest it had been for months and the most laid back it had been for months. As usual for this situation, Joy was up front, a blinding white grin on her face, each toothy end connecting to rosy red cheeks at full blush. A guffaw exploded from her mouth. She was reigned in only by Fear, her second-mate for the evening.

"Easy now, Joy!" she said, her purple hands quivering as she sipped her mug, "Slow, steady! Steady! Look out, for crying out loud! We could've crashed!" Acting, Fear threw in a command, a faint purple orb rolled in from the fireplace (whose flames briefly flickered a similar color). Their host made the correct change to stop from crashing. A minor adjustment, but one that made Fear relieved nonetheless.

"Hey, quiet!" hissed Anger from the sofa as he re-lit his pipe, "You're gonna wake up Sadness!"

"Oh, s-sorry," Fear whispered, taking a quick glance at Sadness's sleeping figure. The little blue thing was curled up in his favorite chair, snoring loudly and scratching his beard as he dreamed the night away. He'd earned it, though. Of all of them, he was the one who had the most troubles these past few months, preparing and setting things up for their big night, and exhausting himself day in and day out, worrying and fretting and fretting and worrying. In the end, though, he'd done his duty, just like every year, and now it was time for a well-deserved nap while the others took over.

Or, well, while Joy took over.

Anger finished lighting his pipe and promptly chucked the used up match into the fireplace. Relaxing back into the sofa, he took a puff on the wooden object clenched between his teeth. As he did this, he glanced down and noticed the paper he'd left on the coffee table. He furrowed his brows, contemplated something, then muttered, "Well, might as well." He leaned over to the coffee table and picked the reading material up again. His eyes skimmed up and down the columns for the second time that night. A hardly-used smile cracked his face. "Looks good this time around," he said to nobody in particular, "Heck, we'll be pushing our limits to meet our quota... Hmm... What do you think, Disgust?" He looked over to his peer, but she hadn't heard him.

The sight was ironic; Disgust was on the other end of the couch, passed out and drooling, one hand clutching a half-empty bottle, the other holding a half-eaten pastry. Crumbs adorned her mouth, and ugly snores ripped periodically out of her nose. She'd freak out if she saw how she looked at the moment. Anger let himself chuckle, then went back to his reading. The only other noise (apart from his paper moving and the two sleeping emotions) was Joy humming happily to herself. Anger winced, scowled, and looked up indignantly.

"Hey, Joy," he hissed.

Joy stopped and spun around. "Yeah?"

"Would it kill ya to at least choose a different song?"

"Oh... Okay!" With another smile, she instantly started up another tune. Anger shrugged and read some more. It would have to work, now, wouldn't it? When Joy was in this type of mood, _nothing_ could stop her from being her bubbly, energetic self, so it was best to just not interfere in the first place. At least she was willing to change up what she was humming once in a while.

Fear was still hovering over her shoulder, back tense with worry. "Slow, easy, Joy, easy!" she said, "Steady... steady..."

"..aaand another perfect stop," Joy said. Fear double-checked the window in front of them, then sighed in relief and sipped her mug some more. She spun to Fear and gave her a heavy-handed pat on the back, "Thanks again for the directions!"

"Aaah!" Fear said. Her hot beverage had spilled all over her. Again.

"Oh, darn it!" Joy said, "Got carried away again. Sorry."

"No, it's - it's no big deal, I'll just get another refill, heh." The purple figure scurried to the back to fill up her cup again, leaving Joy as the sole emotion at the console.

Not that the little gold thing would complain in the least.

Cracking her knuckles, she whispered, "Alright! Here we go..." and went about her business.

Golden orbs continued to pile up, rolling out of the flashing fireplace and landing in a pile nearby as Joy continued doing her job, humming happily to herself and occasionally letting out a laugh. The Personality Islands lit up vibrantly with each motion, like decorative electric lights, and - though there was hardly any noise - you could tell that HQ was alive with energy. Truly, Joy loved their job. Everyone, even Anger, had to agree on that point; they had the best job in the world, bar none.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside...

 _And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof_  
 _The prancing and pawing of each little hoof._  
 _As I drew in my head, and was turning around,_  
 _Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound._

 _He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,_  
 _And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot._  
 _A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,_  
 _And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack._

 _His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!_  
 _His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!_  
 _His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,_  
 _And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow._

 _The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,_  
 _And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath._  
 _He had a broad face and a little round belly,_  
 _That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!_

* * *

 _So, there we have it - Santa Clause doing his job for the night. Gah, where to start with the clues?_

 _1\. The fireplace where memory orbs came rolling out and piled up. That should strike up some Christmas-like imagery._

 _2\. The pipe Anger had, and the wine and pastry Disgust had. I would have actually gone further and said that Disgust had a cookie in her hand, but I think that would have given it all completely away._

 _3\. Joy being in charge for the night; come on, it's Santa delivering presents - of course Joy would be the one leading everything, and - if the poem is anything to go by - he's full of bubbly happiness as he does his job._

 _4\. Fear at the start was guiding Joy not to crash - I think this would be how it is when Santa is flying, making course-corrections, and generally piloting his reindeer._

 _5\. Sadness had a beard._

 _6\. Anger was reading Santa's naughty/nice list, and - if you'll note - this was the second time that evening he'd looked at it. "He's making a list, and checking it twice..."_

 _7\. Disgust, Anger, and Sadness really had nothing to do at the moment, which makes sense, seeing as Santa is a vibrant, jolly man who loves spreading cheer. And - since it's Christmas Eve - he generally has no need for sadness, disgust, or anger._

 _8\. Sadness working herself up and being exhausted was supposed to imply all the "bad" children on the list who wouldn't get presents this year, as Sadness took stock of everything._

 _9\. The personality Islands lit up like decorative lights... I think that might have been too much of a hint, but I couldn't resist putting it in there. Actually, one detail I did not add (because it was too obvious) but that I was tempted to add was that the memory orbs, once they roll out of the chimney, go piling up underneath a giant tree in the room's center, one that's towering and massive, taking up all the room. The orbs then are taken and hung like Christmas Tree decorations. At the base, like presents, is where the core memories are. I really wanted to give that visual, but - man - it would have been too obvious. Maybe a Christmas-themed one-shot is in order in the future?_

 _Also, for obvious reasons, I couldn't post this around Christmastime - that would make it wayyy too easy, in my opinion (though I feel this one was too easy as is, anyways)._


	9. Cue the Evil Laugh

**IMPORTANT UPDATE:**

 **Alright, here's the deal: "Whose Mind is it, Anway?" will be going on a brief hiatus for a month or so, mainly because I want to change things up.**

 **In the meantime, I'll be working on "The Gallery," then - if all goes to plan - I'll be doing a multi-chaptered fanfic starting around Halloween (the timing is appropriate, trust me). After the multi-chaptered fanfic is done, "Whose Mind is it, Anyway?" shall return with a vengeance, with a steadily updated pace of guessing games. It will just be a few months before more start coming in. My apologies.**

 **Anyways, I just wanted you to know so that you were aware of the situation. I'll be back to "Whose Mind Is It Anyway?" sometime in a few months.**

 **-Steveles**

* * *

 _This one's from a cartoon show_

* * *

HQ was a network of tubes and wires, enigmatic tech littering its interior. Menacing devices jutted out from odd angles. Electricity crackled and sparked in corners with half-damaged machinery. Outside the window, several red-and-gold-and-green Islands of Personality hovered in the air, their looming shapes obscuring bits of the similarly-colored maze known as Long Term Memory. The largest one, Self Island, was a golden, gleaming tower with an imposing statue of their host - a veritable shrine to their own glory. Anger was observing the sight. He sighed in satisfaction.

A doorway opened. Anger turned and looked at Disgust, who was dusting off his uniform. The little green man marched rigidly up to Anger and gave a comically stiff salute. "Sir!" Disgust declared, "The prisoner has been given her nutrients for the day."

Anger nodded in satisfaction. He glanced behind Disgust to see Fear walk in. "Have we had any progress in termination?" he asked her.

"Negative," sighed Fear, "I... Uh... I..."

Anger scowled, an eye twitching. "What?! Spit it out!"

"Y-Yes, sir!" Fear's body tensed up, "Uh... do you think this is a good plan? I mean, we might-"

"Don't you _dare_ question my authority, you mere _simpleton!_ " Anger roared, head igniting in a blaze. Fear shrunk back from the heat. "I give you the orders, you follow them! Now find out how we can terminate that little blue _fool_ or I will _try you!_ "

"S-sS-Sir, yes, sir!" Fear whimpered.

"Good!" Anger said happily, his rage vanishing as quickly as the flames, as if a lightswitch had been turned off. He laughed, then patted Fear on the back. "Come, then."

The trio walked up to Joy, who was humming intensely to herself at the console, a chaotic tabletop buried somewhere underneath a jungle of buttons, wires, levers, and various other things of that nature. Joy's feet were as bare as her hairless head, having kicked off her standard-issue military boots, and pulled up a big fluffy chair. Anger made a note to chew the twerp out for sitting in his seat later, but not now. Now, they had a task at hand.

"Joy!" barked the red thing.

Joy wasn't startled. Without missing a beat she let out an evil cackle (she'd been practicing, you see) before saying, "Watch! Look! Look, sir, look!"

"Alright, pipe down, I'm looking..." Anger and the others gazed into the monitor.

Up on screen, their host - too - was watching a monitor, analyzing it as data streamed across: lifesigns, heartbeats. Stuff you usually only saw in hospitals, not villainous lairs. The heartbeat was noticeably ragged, and the other lifelines were starting to flicker. All observing emotions grinned spitefully. Their enemy was dying.

"May I join in?" asked Anger as Joy readied the final blow.

"Sir, yes sir!" Joy declared, gesturing to a lever nearby. Anger grabbed it along with Joy. They were about to move, but Joy suddenly stopped. "Wait!" she said, looking to Disgust. "You wanna?" she offered. Disgust's gloved fingers clenched the lever as well. "What about you, Fear?"

The little purple twig declined. "N-No thanks, I should probably go check on Sadness, make sure she doesn't escape, find a solution to the problem of her existence, that kinda thing... have fun, though!" An outsider may have thought she was lying, or being sarcastic, but the others knew better. In spite of her fidgeting demeanor and her twitching eyes, Fear was absolutely telling the truth. She whistled happily to herself as she went back down to her laboratory, taking a holopad with her to make notes with. They'd done a good job; Sadness had never pressed a button once, nor interacted with the control panel all her miserable life. They intended to keep it that way, until she lost this "empathy" disease that had infected her...

It was Fear's personal diagnosis that she was making progress, and might not need to be slated for termination after all, but she'd let Anger decide that. At any rate, she left the others to resume their vital work.

This left the others alone at the lever. "Alright!" Joy said, squealing with delight, "This is it!"

"Oh, please don't tell me you had a speech made!" Disgust groaned.

"But... but we're about to kill the-"

"So?"

"But come on! This is a big moment! Nothing will stand in our way after this! Don't you-"

"Oh for crying out loud!" Anger screamed, then shoved the lever forward for them. In one fluid motion, their host made a move, and all eyes looked on the monitor. Their enemy's vital signs shuddered, then died. A single memory orb, gold and red and green, rolled into its place among all the others. The trio looked at eachother, realization at what they'd done slowly sinking in.

Joy was the first to chuckle.

It began in her belly, a deep laugh slowly bubbling like acid. It worked its way up, vibrating her chest until she couldn't hold it in any more. It exploded out, a hurricane of cackling glee. It infected Disgust and Anger. The trio held onto eachother. Fear rushed up. She'd heard the noise, and - though she knew she should be working - she couldn't help but join in. Soon, all four were delightfully reveling in their unprecedented victory, so much so that they forgot to pull the "evil laughter" lever.

"It's ours!" Joy screamed, "The world is ours at last!"

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, deep underneath the surface, in his underground base, the Irken known as Zim smiled in satisfaction. Through a series of _brilliant_ scientific tests, he'd found out that sending rubber pigs back in time to key moments in the past (via the giant, swirling portal in one of the walls) resulted in accidents occurring to his nemesis, the human child known as _Dib_. With enough of these "pig" incidents, the damage compounded up, until...

The little green insect looked over with a sneer. Dib's flat heartline was emitting a long, solitary beep. It was a symphony to victory, music to Zim's ears (or, well, antennae).

He smiled like a child on Christmas, then grabbed a purple Irken soda. He'd earned it. Slurping the delicious, sugary drink and walking up to the elevator, Zim passed one final comment to his now-dead enemy: "Foolish Earth creature..."

The room was left with nothing but the humming of machinery, as cold and metallic as ever.

Had he stayed behind, Zim would have noticed a shift in the environment.

He would have seen the monitor that showed what was happening in the past.

He would have seen Dib's scientific father hosting a press conference.

He would have seen the professor announce a titanium exoskeleton created for Dib.

He would have seen the eleven-year-old's vital signs jump back to life, beating with new life, and looking as angry as Dib felt at his waking moment.

But Zim didn't see that. All he saw was the black interior of his eyelids as he happily drank is soda, blissfully unaware of the nightmare he was about to walk into...

* * *

 _I love this show. Seriously, it's my favorite one (heh, it'd be hypocritical of me to be making IZ:TDM! if I didn't like Invader ZIM, after all). But (in an English accent) enough about philosophy! What were the clues, here?_

 _1\. The emotions' appearances weren't described much, but I did drop hints there; bald, with gloves and boots. Zim is bald (duh), and has gloves and boots._

 _2\. The aesthetics in HQ are exactly like the Irken aesthetics all around Zim's base. I'd be surprised if Zim's mind wasn't as threatening and cybernetic._

 _3\. The biggest island was one of himself. Zim's got a giant ego, okay? I'm not gonna lie; the only canonical pairing in that show just might be Zim and himself, because of how full of it he is. Arrogant little insect._

 _4\. Sadness had never been used, and wouldn't be unless they found out a way to get rid of this "empathy" that she had. Guys, I know a lot of Zim fans like to think that, deep down, Zim's some sort of loveable misunderstood thing, but... no. He's an arrogant, cold, self-centered jerk. No doubts about it. Empathy is nonexistent with him (save for once or twice when dealing with GIR), and I would have just had Sadness not exist at all, but the fact is that he does feel sorrow for himself later on in the series._

 _5\. He takes glee in destruction and death._

 _6\. I made everything as Zim-like as possible in his emotional demeanor; twitchy, erratic, and a caricature of militant discipline (Zim's over-the-top military attitude exemplifies his little fantasy, wherein he's the best soldier the Irken army has, and not the sad reality that he's a little psychotic war criminal who quite frankly deserves a swift execution at best)._

 _7\. Everything was centered around being technological and futuristic, down to Fear's holopad._

 _8\. As snazzy and cool as his HQ was, it was also cluttered and jumbled. Zim's insane. That's not an exaggeration on my part; he's literally mentally unstable. Hence his emotions' bursts of erratic behavior and his HQ's slobbish mess of a room._

 _9\. The Islands of Personality are all gold, red, and green. I don't know what Personality Islands Zim would have, but I'd guess they'd have to do with how much he loves himself, how much he's disgusted by humans, and how much he hates Dib._


	10. The Tidiest of Minds

_This one's from a series of books and short stories..._

* * *

A trio of mind workers made their way around the maze known as long term, with its sprawling shelves playing host to countless memories. One would think, "What a great mind resides here!" at first, due to the sheer vastness before them, but then - on closer inspection - the truth would be revealed in a different light. Most of the shelves were empty, and of the memories that did reside, most were gray. How queer, wouldn't you say? How absolutely bizarre that a mind as vast and open as this would have so few memories scattered around it. The two mind workers, of course, were discussing the matter as they made their rounds for the day.

"Let's see, then... what we ate for supper last night?"

"Useless."

"Alright."

After the two came to a consensus, the third, pry-bar in hand, lifted up a conveniently nearby metal disk, beneath which was a tunnel. The tunnel - of course - led to the memory dump, and soon a batch of grey orbs fresh from the morning went tumbling down the hole, to be forgotten forever. Some of them, in fact, were so insignificant - so absolutely unneeded - that they vanished into thin air before even hitting the lifeless others around them. With a clang of the lid, the trio continued on.

"The scent of the rooms this morning."

"Unneeded."

"Agreed."

The lid went, "Clang!"

The spheres rolled in.

The group moved on.

"The theory of evolution and natural selection."

"Irrelevant."

"Quite. When will we ever need to know that?"

Clang.

Dump.

Moving on.

"Politics in Europe."

"Rubbish."

Into the dump they went.

"The History of America."

"Never will we need to know that."

Dump.

And so it went, on and on, as more grey memories (un-cared for by their owner, unwanted by this mind) were trashed, and less space was taken up on the shelves. It is only one sight of many, as countless other groups of three marched up and down, scrutinizing with critical eyes the contents of so many shelves. The picture was so noticeable that, even from HQ, Joy could see the progress being made as she took a puff on her cigarette between smiling lips.

As the smoke wafted out and entered the air, she took a moment to appreciate the splendid view; like crown jewels of a tidy mind, several Personality Islands floated above the expanse below. Standing out especially to here were the two on opposing sides of the lineup, each for very different reasons. You see, while she distastefully wrinkled her nose at the abominable island to the far left (whose streets and windows and buildings were all lined with a too-familiar white powder, and whose various decorations were all representative of chains, traps, and prison cells), she warmly chuckled as she looked upon the island to the far right; it had a towering building at its center, reminiscent of a Greek pillar, atop which rested a brain sculpture. Adorning this Island's sides and outer edges were various representations of Science (test tubes and chemicals), Math (equations and formulas), History (of the generally criminal sort), and various other disciplines of the sort (though many found themselves also having their own smaller Island floating elsewhere above the void).

"Good morning, Sadness," Joy said aloud, having seen her small blue friend's reflection while he approached, "Still not getting enough sleep?"

Sadness knew how she knew this, of course - by the scent of the tobacco he was currently putting in his pipe; a special blend that he only used to help when he was too tired to get much else done otherwise (save at least get dressed in his coveralls and cap). "Unfortunately, yes," he said, not even glancing at Joy again before adding, "And isn't it wonderful to have short, sweet dreams like last night's?"

Joy knew that Sadness knew because she was sitting here, up early, admiring the view and reflecting on their wonderful human host, all without a slight hint of being tired (she was on Dream Duty the preceding night, of course, and unless it were short and sweet, she would have been tired and somewhat irritable). So she didn't ask, she simply said, "Yes... I wish they could all be like that."

They each paused a moment in mutual agreement, puffing on their respective morning smoke makers.

"Hello," came another voice. Anger was walking up, cigar chomped between his teeth, freshly lit, as he finished adjusting his tie and overcoat, "Another nice dream? Sorry you're getting such little sleep, Sadness."

"It's alright," he replied.

"And we did have a good dream last night. My heart goes out to you for your fitful rest, though."

Anger chuckled. "When Fear's got the pot ready, I'll be over it. Besides..." at this, he took a long, deliberate puff on his cigar before smiling and saying, "At least I didn't need to find a light." Of course, that was why they knew he had a fitful slumber; his cigar was already half-smoked, and he hadn't had time to light it yet before stepping outside his room, so - of course - he had slept roughly, his signature mood flaring to life, allowing him to at least light his morning cigar (albeit earlier than usual, due to him waking up earlier than usual).

Fear entered, with a pot of the darkest coffee he could have possibly made. As he walked in, he briefly took off his top hat and asked if anyone wanted any, and they all said they certainly did. As Fear was pouring the coffee out, he offhandedly commented to Joy, "I love your confidence that we won't so quickly fall back into our old, nasty habits, but could you please do us all a favor and come up with a list of activities to do today?"

"Ah, you worry too much," Joy said. She knew he had picked up on how laid back she felt this morning, and - since today was looking to be a boring day - they always ran the risk of turning to a particular white, powdery substance to pass their time. Since, of course, Joy was so happy in spite of the inevitable boredom of the day, she clearly was confident that their sheer willpower was enough to keep them from succumbing to the tasteless drug habit.

Joy shrugged off Fear's fears, and tapped out her cigarette.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," came the voice of Disgust. She walked up, broom in hand, and began sweeping up the freshly-spilled ash that had fallen from Joy's cigarette. All this in spite of being dressed more like an upper class lady than a housemaid. But, matters of dress aside, it was clear Disgust's efforts were paying off; Headquarters was in pristine condition. Its wooden walls were well dusted. Its tiled floor was mopped and polished. Its high ceiling was even in a perfect state of upkeep, with not a crack or flaw to be found in its rafters.

None of that was on Disgusts mind, however. "Joy," she said, "you should know by now how much that bothers me. We have ahstrays for a reason, so the least you could do is take your dirty habit and ensure all evidence is removed from your crime scenes... Oh, and Fear, I know you like coffee sometimes late at night, but you could do worse than to make sure you don't spill any as you make your cup. I had quite a bit to clean up earlier."

This was, naturally, in reference to the particular black blend of coffee with a dash of sugar, barely more than a spoonful, that she had found in the back room while fetching her broom minutes ago; the coffee was cool, and sticky, so it must have been made last night, and only one of the emotions liked their beverage with that ratio of sugar to coffee.

"Duly noted," said Fear, "You have my apologies."

"Apologies accepted," Disgust replied as she finished up.

"Alright, does this conclude our morning business?" Joy asked, dropping her cigarette into a nearby ashtray as she walked over to the brass console, "I believe we ought to attend to our host now."

All agreed, of course, and soon took up positions at the console, with its brass levers and wooden clockwork gears, reflective of the oh-so-logical mind in which they resided. Up before them, the window to the outside world showed their bedroom, exactly as it had been when they'd fallen asleep. Joy pressed a button, their host feeling quite ready to start another day, and a dim gold memory rolled into place.

 _'Hmm... I may have come off too strong with that one,'_ she mused to herself, then shrugged, _'Oh well. The Mind Workers know well enough anyways; they wouldn't keep anything unless it were useful to us. That is just another for the Memory Dump.'_

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a lanky, eagle-nosed man stepped out of his bedroom at 221B, Baker Street. He paused long enough in the middle room to observe his companion's untouched breakfast, sunken eyes, and the crumpled newspaper beside him before saying, "Good morning, Watson... You need not fret about the string of murders taking place on the South End; one was an accident, the second was a copycat, the third was only tangentially related to the first, and the murderers are all deceased. When Lestrade stops chasing his own tail all over London, he'll realize this, too."

"Holmes!" Watson exclaimed, "How the deuce did you know I was thinking about that?"

"The same way I knew you had an embarrassing encounter with an unwanted friend yesterday; logic and the Science of Deduction. Shall I ring Mrs. Hudson for some coffee?"

* * *

 _This one would really only be known to readers of the original Sherlock Holmes stories, had I decided to use an actual scene from the books, so I invented one from scrap; an average morning in Baker Street, where Holmes's first words are almost always something to astound his friend, the good doctor, and - by extension - the reader, until he explains how he arrived at the conclusion he arrived at._

 _I didn't want to pick some obscure scene from a book series that most people haven't read, so I stuck with describing the character himself, who is - of course - very well known._

 _What were the clues?_

 _1\. The fact that his mind is empty of what he considers "useless" or "trivial" facts. Those who have read the books will know that, for example, Sherlock Holmes doesn't know that the Earth orbits the Sun, and - on being informed so by Watson - makes a pointed effort to discard that information immediately. You see, to him, the human brain is like an attic, only able to store so much mental furniture, and he does not want his attic to be cluttered with things that do not affect him or his line of work._

 _2\. The smoking. Sorry if this grosses some of you out. But it's a well known fact the Holmes smoked like a chimney; early on in the series, he used his clay pipe, and after that switched over to cigarettes when they picked up popularity in England._

 _3\. The cocaine (that's what it is) on one of the Personality Islands. Holmes had a cocaine addiction for a while, as chronicled by Dr. Watson. This was due to the nature of Holmes's mind - he hated the brief periods of no work to do (or easily solved crimes), so - to avail himself of the boredom and monotony that his intellect rebelled against - he would give himself an injection of the stuff, his "seven percent solution" as he called it, to distract his mind and take him briefly from the stagnation around him._

 _4\. The emotions picking up on eachothers' doings as casually and logically as Holmes was known for doing. This was hammered home a bit too hard, perhaps, but I felt it necessary to make up for how few people seem to have read the stories themselves. Everyone, reader of the originals or not, knows Holmes's quirk of deducing things about people in a seemingly mystical manner._

 _5\. The equipment, clothing, and aesthetics that I did describe were all intended to be of a Victorian nature._

 _6\. The fact that Joy felt she'd overreacted when producing a dimly lit orb shows that we're in the mind of an individual not very disposed to emotion. Logic reigns supreme in Holmes's mind, to the point where he won't let emotion interfere unless absolutely necessary. This ties in somewhat to the overabundance of grey memory orbs; Holmes only cares about particular things, and doesn't care about much else._

* * *

 **That's it for now, guys! No promises when the next update will be. Maybe soon, maybe late. I simply don't know, but I promise that I'll submit it whenever I feel the quality is good and the time is right.**


	11. Red Red Red Alert!

_This one's from a movie, based on a comic..._

* * *

Anger gripped the controls. A snarl exploded from her mouth.

"Miserable, wretched _lowlifes!_ " she screamed, slamming a button, "Let's kill them! Le'ts just kill them _all!_ "

HQ trembled.

More of the ceiling crashed down, showering the others. Fear gulped. Her frantic eyes flicked back and forth. She stood up, noticing with alarm the size of rubble that had crushed her. Immortal emotions may be, but invulnerable they are not. If she broke her leg again...

Her leg was fine. Beneath the tear in the tan slacks, now covered in dirt and ash, she could see no signs of fracture or damage. Good. She slowly stood, looking left and right after adjusting her glasses. But it was useless. They were cracked, and caked in dirt, making it harder rather than easier to see. She threw them aside. She could see clearly enough that everything was about to fall apart.

Disgust was dragging Joy's limp body from under the rubble. He bent over his gold friend only a second before looking back to Fear, shaking his head. "Out cold..." he muttered. Then added a surgically-precise expletive under his breath.

For the span of a second, the leader had nothing to say. Then she blinked, and slapped herself across the face. "G-Get her safe!" she barked, "Now! Go! To the shelter! Get to the Train!"

Disgust nodded, and after adjusting his broken glasses, gently picked up Jooy. While the Train of Thought arrived, and while mind workers scrambled to load the two in, and while the air-raid sirens wailed across the landscape, Fear jumped to action. No time to waste. Scared she may be, but she was more fearful of the consequences if she didn't get this problem fixed, and right away.

A mound of rubble shifted, and Sadness shoved herself out, tears streaming down her face. They dropped down, mixing with the dirt caking her ruined shirt. Fear was by her sister's side in an instant. "Sadness!" she said, sliding down on her knees, "Sadness, look at me! I need you to look!"

Tears kept pouring out beneath the glasses, and her tiny blue hands desperately clung to Fear's. Blue eyes stared into purple ones.

"Sadness!" Fear said, "You can hear me, right?"

She nodded, then nodded again, frantic.

Fear gulped, sparing a moment to glance out the windows. Or, rather, the gaping hole where windows used to be. The personality islands were beginning to shake. Already one was gone, tumbling to the dump; beakers and test tubes crashed into each other in a chemical bath that rained down into the chasm. Fear repeated Disgust's sentiment, then looked back to her sister. She'd sucked up her tears, stopped crying. She looked deeply at Fear.

"Fear..." she said.

"Yes? Yes?"

Sadness nodded. "Get to the Train."

Fear gulped.

"Get to the train," she repeated, then pulled her forehead up against Fear's. "I'll be fine."

Fear breathed in, then out, then nodded. "Work your magic," she said. They gripped arms, then separated. The ground shook again, and Anger screamed again. Fear scrambled over rubble and into the Train.

"All aboard?" the conductor asked, adjusting his glasses.

"No!" Fear shouted. "Not yet! For the thousandth time, not yet!"

"Sorry, ma'am, I'm sure!" the conductor defended, "It's just been a while since-"

"I know, but we are _not_ leaving Sadness up here with-"

Another convulsion. This time, the whole world shook; many memories from Long Term scattered and fell. Many went right to the dump. Fear glanced down there. Where the previous Island had fallen, rubble now littered the ground, crushing many of the dead memories to dust. It was being joined by others, one by one. The Islands of Personality were shutting down shop. She looked up at HQ, right across from them. Mind workers came running into the train, each carrying a Core Memory.

"Come on, Sadness!" Fear hissed to herself, hoping against hope that all these precautions would prove unnecessary.

That little blue teardrop, meanwhile, was walking across what used to be tiled floors and chalkboards filled with numbers and chemical equations. Now it was the site of so much wreckage. She braced herself and stood behind Anger. Said emotion was roaring, snarling, hissing, growling. Almost completely gone to an animalistic state. Her hair was aflame. Her fists were breaking the controls that they never seemed toleave.

The ground shook again.

Sadness steeled herself. A heavy breath. Closed eyes. Exhale. Opened eyes.

"Anger!" she shouted.

Red, hateful eyes met hers. She stepped back without knowing it.

"Stand down!" she commanded.

"Why?!" Anger screamed, "So you can let us be stepped on, crushed like ants?! Those pathetic-"

"You're gonna hurt people! You are going to kill innocent people! Stand down!"

Anger panted. She said nothing. Her teeth groaned as they slid against eachother.

Sadness closed her eyes in pain, remembering what happened last time. She could still feel the faint ache. She slowly, deliberately extended her hand. Her tiny, trembling hand. "A-Anger..." she said, "I want you... I want you to take my hand..."

More staring.

"I promise..." she continued, tears peaking out, "I promise... we _will_ be here for you. We _will_ be here for-"

"You promise?!" Anger spat.

Sadness gulped. She had to be confident. She couldn't let her see how terrified she was...

Fear tapped her fingers against her arms as she watched the sight unfold. She almost didn't hear Joy groan as she woke up.

"Joy's up!" Disgust shouted. Fear was by her side in an instant.

"Sis, you alright?" Disgust asked, his eyes full of worry.

"I'm... I'm... I'm fine, but..." Joy slowly got to her feet. She saw HQ. She saw Anger. She saw the pit below. She dropped back to the ground. "No..."

Disgust looked down at the dump, too, and somehow managed to swear with his eyes alone.

Fear just closed hers in resignation. She didn't need to look to see it. She didn't need to see the Islands' rubble reforming, coming together in the pit. She didn't need to see it rise back up, reanimated as some Frankenstein of a thing, undead and unfeeling. She didn't need to see the hateful red glow of that new Island. She-

Sadness.

Fear opened her eyes.

Sadness backed off.

It all happened at once.

Anger roared again. Her hands gripped Sadness in an iron-tight vice. She looked out at the train, and threw Sadness across HQ. Her tiny blue body went flying out the opening where a wall used to be. Now, an empty pit and a long fall yawned below to swallow the screaming blue dot. Fear dove across the train's open car, hands out.

She was screaming, too.

Time slowed down.

And...

Her purple palms gripped Sadness's just in time.

With the help of Disgust and Joy, Sadness was brought back in. Tears were pouring afresh. "I'm sorry, Fear!" she cried, gripping her arms, "I'm sorry! She didn't listen, and-" Joy cut her off with a hug. In fact, they all got pulled in for it, and not even Disgust objected this time. They just sat there, embracing eachother against what was about to happen. They'd done so well, too...

So well, for so long...

But it was useless to dwell now. If there's one thing Fear knew, it was how to run away and get to safety.

"Go," Fear told the conductor.

He nodded, and the Train of Thought went off, far away across Long Term, to a bunker where the mind workers were gathering. They didn't want to be around. Not when it happened again.

Thanks to their distance, they didn't see it when Anger jerked her head back up to the cracked monitor. There was their so-called friend, promising on her so-called life that she'd help them. But she didn't know. She had no clue. She was just trying to save her own hide.

"Too late for that!" Anger howled. Her red hands gripped the levers, then ripped them off, "You and your lies! You and your miserable lies!" She kicked the controls in. "Screw you! We don't need you!" She flung the pieces, ripping layer after layer off the console, bathing herself in a shower of sparks. "I don't need you!"

She stopped long enough to catch her breath.

Everyone was in the bunker by then, and they all felt what happened next.

Anger screamed louder than ever before, and her head erupted not into fire, but into an explosion. A literal explosion of hate, mushrooming up where HQ used to be.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, Natasha Romanov quite suddenly realized how useless her efforts had been. When the explosion occurred, she dove to cover Dr. Banner, keep him from getting harmed. Then the tables turned. She recovered to find bits and pieces of the Helicarrier burying the two of them. Dr. Banner, especially, wasn't looking too good. He was looking far greener than usual.

"Bruce..." she said, meekly, "I promise, on my life, I will get us through-"

" _Your_ life?!" he cried out.

Then Bruce Banner was gone.

There was the Hulk.

And the Black Widow was about to run for her life.

* * *

 _I don't know what the thing was with this, but I was in the zone when I wrote this chapter! Seriously, it flowed so naturally to me as I typed it out! All of it, start to finish, just snapped into place perfectly. VERY satisfied with this._

 _So, what were the clues?_

 _1\. Anger. Do I really need to explain much here, heh? Boiling rage, out of control, more of an animal than a human. I also included the fact that she hardly ever left the controls, thanks to Bruce's line in the Avengers: "That's my secret, Captain - I'm always angry." (cue the epic beatdown)_

 _2\. The relationships between the emotions here; survivors of a disaster, prepared to survive one again. I believe that Banner's world tuns completely upside down every time the Hulk takes over, devastating to his mind._

 _3\. Sadness's role in calming Anger down. Not only is this reflective of Black Widow's role in "deactivating" the hulk in the second Avenger's movie, but also, I feel the best way Banner keeps his cool is through knowing what would happen would he let his Anger loose._

 _4\. The nuclear explosion. Radiation. Should conjure up some very specific images._

 _5\. The only attires I mention the emotions dressed in should be evocative of Bruce Banner - glasses, slacks._

 _6\. Apart from being in shambles, the environ of HQ consisted of "chalkboards" filled with "chemical equations." Telling of whose mind we're in._

 _7\. The only Personality Island I described (apart from the Hulk's, rearing up to take over business) was one filled with chemistry tubes, coming crashing down to the Memory Dump._

 _8\. It's been a while since this last happened, and - if you'll recall - Bruce Banner had a long streak of keeping the Hulk in check prior to assault on the Helicarrier in the Avenger's movie._

 _Also, might I just add, I loved writing the interactions between the emotions here. I just... words alone can't describe it. I felt emotions as I was writing about emotions feeling emotions, now_ that _is a lot of emotions flying around!_


	12. A Sudden Attack of Conscience

_This one's from a traditional animated movie..._

* * *

Purple light spilled across the stone floor, soaking even the few green vines that grew. The cause, of course, was obvious: HQ was in a panic, with Fear at the console. As his hands flung over the wooden levers and knobs (all etched and decorated with a variety of Mesoamerican symbols), pulling one thing after the other, quieting their footsteps here, glancing around suspiciously there, and generally doing his best to-

"No, stop! Gah, please, stop!" cried Disgust hoarsely as he pressed a button.

-to not let them be seen by anyone else.

Disgust... wasn't helping.

"What?" Fear yelped, voice not much more than a whine, "What on sweet green mother Earth could possibly make us stop right _now?!_ "

Disgust backed off the console's stone surface, saying, "We are _touching_ a _dead body!_ "

"Well, actually..." Joy's buttery voice said from the other end. She had been singing along, humming to herself a tune she'd dubbed their "theme song." Opinions varied on how good it was, but its somewhat tension-relieving effect was all keeping Fear in check. It was, therefore, the only thing stopping them from panicking. Which, of course wouldn't be good, what with the soon-to-be-dead "man" they were carrying in the bag. "He's uh... he's not dead yet, only knocked out! Yep! The ol' biceps sure did a good job on that one, eh?"

"I just can't believe we'll still have to kill him soon!" Sadness moaned, adjusting her robe (which had been stained with a fresh batch of tears) as she felt new pangs of depression come crashing in. "I don't wanna do that!"

"Well, I don't either!" Anger shouted harshly, "But little mister spineless over here just had to let us be intimidated by our boss _again_ , now, didn't he?"

"Ouch...," Fear hissed, punctuated by a whistle, "That was, uh... that was kind of a low blow, there."

"Well, it's true!" the red brick raged as she paced, looking up at the hole to the outside world, framed in etched stone, "Look at that! Here we are, walking through this city - at night - with an unconscious man in a bag, about to throw said bag in the river. Now you tell me - would you rather be doing this, or be at home, cooking, and not worrying about being involved in the biggest crime ever committed in this Empire, huh?!"

"Well..." Fear shrugged, conceding his red friend's point. To further emphasize, Joy leaned on the console, mouth drooling at the thought of fresh food, and Cooking Island lit up in the background. Fear got her off the console soon enough, though, as panic seized him once more.

"No, wait! _Stop!_ "

Joy stopped, Fear yanked the levers, and they flattened themselves against the stone wall, passing - they assumed - under the radar of two other pedestrians out late at night. Then...

"Excellent," Joy said with a smile before jumping back at the console. Their host resumed the custom theme music Joy was so fond of, humming and mumbling away, all while Fear went back to work. Nobody would catch them. Nobody. And as they went up to the bridge, dropped the bag in the river, and wiped their hands of the whole matter, Joy smiled triumphantly. "Job's done," she said, "Now let's go home and have some more of that coffee, huh?"

"N-N-Noo..." Sadness said, "No, no, no!" She walked up to the console, and their host did a double take. The bag - with the man (if you could now call him that) still knocked out in it - was taking a turn in the stream, floating right to a waterfall.

Fear gulped. Joy went numb with shock. Disgust shook her head in shame. Anger gritted her teeth.

Sadness waddled up, her tiny rope sandals shuffling against the stones and vines, and she began taking control of the console. "We can't do this!" she whined, "We can't kill an innocent man! Look, I _know_ we've broken the law before! I get it, we're criminals! We've done some money dealings, yes, we've lied sometimes, we've cheated when ordered to, but we can't _kill_ anyone! This is.. this is way too far! This is way way _way_ too far!"

Joy intervened, shoving Sadness aside, "But the job's done! Besides, our boss will think we're good workers - and we, ah, we want to be on her good side... right?"

Fear nodded. "I'm with Joy, here! We-w-we... Ahem..." He composed himself, then, calmly, with as much of a smile as he could muster, said, "We're ten feet deep in this business with no shovel and a steel casket. We can't back out now, or _we'll_ wind up deader than Uncle Henry, rest his soul."

Sadness didn't comment on it, but she did notice the hesitation in Fear's voice, and the worried glances Joy kept giving to the window in front of the console.

Besides, Disgust spoke up.

"Oh, come off it!" he said to Fear, "You know we can't do that! You _know_ our Morality Island would erupt, we- we can't, end of story, we can't!"

"Says the one," Anger sneered, "Always obsessed with how we look more than how we act?"

"Excuse me!"

"Oh, you know your main concern is always looks and food and what we look like, but why is it _now_ , of all times-"

"Because we're about to do something _horrible! You want us to_ kill _that man?!"_

"Man?"

"You know what I mean! Do you still think we should kill him?"

"He's a jerk! But-"

"S-So? So's our boss! We won't just kill her-"

"I wasn't about to say that, but since you suggested it..."

"You wouldn't dare-"

"At least we could turn her in and wipe that smile from her smug, wrinkly face!

"She's got connections!"

"She is evil! You idiots can't see that?!"

"Of course we can! But she's scary, too, and-"

" _Shut up!_ " Sadness shouted, " _Just shut up!_ "

They all went silent. Eyes were wide. You see, Sadness was the quietest. She rarely raised her voice, she rarely did anything but whisper... but - then again - it was all the more cause to listen when she did yell. So they were quiet as she paced. "We can have time to save our own skin later..." she said, "but now _that_ man-" a blue hand gestured to the outside world. The bag was eking dangerously close to the waterfall that would put an end to its occupant's life. "That man is about to die: _we are about to become killers!_ Don't any of you get that?"

"I-..." Anger said, a wall of defense coming up... but then she stopped, the mental defense collapsing with her posture. She sighed, "You're right."

Fear's eyes flickered back and forth, and indecision rattled his nerves. Joy tensed up, for once forgetting quite how to look at the bright side of things. Disgust gasped on seeing the sight outside. They all looked up and realized they had seconds to act before it was too late.

"Go!" Anger screamed at Fear, "For gods' sakes man, go!" and the purple stick of a thing jumped to the console, kicking it into overdrive while Sadness joined him.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Joy yelled, "He's almost off the edge!"

"Hurry!" Disgust added, "Faster, faster, faster!"

They ran at full speed down the river bank, up to the precarious end where the waterfall commenced. The bag rolled to the end. It fell-

"Oh thank goodness," Fear sighed in relief. They'd caught it. Against all chances, against all that anyone could predict, they decided to stop being such a pushover for once. And - then and there - they had first defied their boss's orders. They had spared a man's life. While the relief spread through the five emotions, washing over them all like a fresh breeze, Fear suddenly realized something, and cringed once more.

Sadness was the second to catch on, as she said, "Now... whaddo we do with him?"

That, of course, nobody had an answer for right away.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, Kronk was hopping down the steps of the Emperor's city, above a crowd of people who were all completely unaware that this big man was carrying Emperor Kuzco - who had turned into a llama - in a brown bag, and had just decided against killing him. It had... it had been a strange evening, to say the least.

"What to do? What to do?" The man murmured to himself, paranoid eyes glancing back and forth and up and down. "What do we do with the body?" _'The unconscious body of the Emperor who I was supposed to kill and now Yzma's gonna kill me and-'_

He was so wrapped up in his worrying that he didn't notice a small cat resting on the steps. But he did notice it when it yelped in pain and jumped up, startling him. Kronk came tumbling down the stairs, losing his grip on the bag, which - in turn - went sailing through the air. Kronk groaned, standing up. His eyes widened in sudden alarm - the bag landed in a man's cart, and the man was walking away.

He jumped forward and shoved his way through the crowd, alternately apologizing and calling out, "Hey! You!" in a desperate attempt to get the man's attention. But - alas - it failed. He lsot sight of the man. Just like that, he, his cart, and the bag with the Emperor, were all gone.

"Oh, this is not good..." Kronk worried out loud, "I hope that doesn't come back to haunt me."

It did.

* * *

 _Alright. Kronk. Emperor's New Groove. This is one of those movies that I love. I swear, I love it to bits. You might not. In fact, you might hate it, but I am totally in love with this film. It's always been one of my favorites from Disney, and it still is to this day. Anyways, what about the hints?_

 _1\. I described HQ as being full of stones and vines. Should be evocative of the scenery found in "Emperor's New Groove." In fact, I even went out of my way to mention the console's surface being decorated in a Mesoamerican fashion. Also, Anger's exclamation of "for gods' sakes, man!" was intentionally typed that way, further emphasizing the Aztec-type culture._

 _2\. The man was obviously fond of cooking. Hence the Cooking Island._

 _3\. You'll note that - in the end - none of the emotions actually_ wanted _to kill Kuzco - it's just that Kronk is easily persuaded to do horrible things by Yzma, who is - admittedly - intimidating and creepy in her own right. Naturally, his conscience rebelled at having to do this deed, and this whole segment was about him fighting against the situation he found himself in._

 _4\. Joy hummed Kronk's theme song to himself. Yes, he has his own theme music. It's pretty ridiculous, but also hilarious._

 _5\. The structure of the scene, from start to finish, mirrors Kronk's sneaking, then him dumping Kuzco in the canal, then the shoulder angel conversation (which I represent here as his Joy and Fear trying to persuade the others that killing Kuzco is alright to do... but - of course - they all were persuaded otherwise in the end, by his own conscience, brought to mind by Sadness - empathy for Kuzco)._

 _6\. They kept hesitating to call Kuzco a man at this point, namely because he was a llama - though I didn't say that because it would make the whole thing way too obvious, in my opinion._

 _7\. "Morality Island's" very existence is a testament to Kronk - he's a nice guy, who doesn't want to do bad things, but is too much of a pushover to do much else... but murder is the start of him drawing the line and changing his mind about all the horrible things Yzma has made him do so far._

 ** _One quick author's note: You guys keep sending me suggestions, and some of them work (from movies I've seen), while others do not. In any case, I highly highly_ highly _encourage you - make your own Inside Out guessing games! I'd love to be on the "guessing" side of things from time to time, and I'd love to see other peoples' takes on this._**


	13. A Tender Moment

_This one's from a movie..._

* * *

Joy had the wheel.

No, literally.

He sat at the console alone, though not for lack of the others being interested. Far from it, all five emotions were crowded around the tiny thing, with its handful of candy-shaped buttons surrounding a wheel. Said wheel jutted out from the console several inches, and Joy's hands currently gripped it tighter than ever before. He had a smile erupting across his face as he squealed in utter delight. Never in their short lives had they ever felt so much adrenaline, so much sheer excitement, as in this moment right here.

On either side of the gold figure stood four others. Anger had lost his signature scowl, Disgust's smile was sweet for once, Fear didn't feel herself panic in the slightest, and Sadness was on the brink of tears, albeit happy ones. Their attention was all on the monitor above, where time had suspended itself, it seemed, as they took in the fruits of their efforts, the wonderful creation made by their friend and them. There it rested, in a spotlight in the empty room. It was the only time they'd ever owned a thing such as this, made with their own hands...

Joy tapped the gas pedal nestled under the console.

Everyone blinked when the glaring yellow light erupted. Then they didn't blink, they stared in wonder. A golden Core Memory rolled like a coin out the slot in the monitor's side, and wound its way down into the sugar-coated floor. It tunneled through, and popped up with its sisters in the room's center. Five emotions had their attention fully drawn, but only four of them went up to the Core Memories; Joy remained in the control seat, content to swivel it around and watch as the new Personality Island came to life.

The beam shot out from HQ with a burst of sheer happiness, and exploded into a bright ball as the pieces all came together; two figures stood on the Island's platform, two statues made of chocolate - a tiny one (themselves) smiling while the larger one (their friend) held them high in the air. Friendship Island. It looked poignant, given where it rested - its sibling to the left, Bullied Island, was fueled by a depressing blue Core Memory (one of the first ones Sadness remembered making), and depicted a circle of awful, laughing figures pointing at a feeble, cowering one in the center.

Hopefully, with time, Bullied Island would take its rightful place in the Memory Dump, gone forevermore from their lives.

For the time being, though, it stood there; a monument to remind them of _why_ they strove to do what they did, and _why_ more of those jeering, bullying figures needed to be taken from that Island and placed on Friendship Island, to join them in laughter instead of mockery.

As the gold figure gave the wheel a hard crank with one hand, the other shot down to a shiftstick beside the chair. He jerked it down, then slammed a foot on the gas. An "input" meter to his right lit up yellow, bar filling all the way up. Sadness, in particular, was struck by the contrast between the new Island and the old one. He knew they all hoped for the change one day, but...

Well, it would take a while, if it ever came at all.

He sighed and shook his head, then looked back at Bullied Island in all its awful glory. It was responsible for most of those memories out there. Yes, behind the Islands swam a big blue sea, shelves upon shelves of sad thoughts, depressing memories of being bullied, harsh reminders of their state as outcasts (Outcast Island, by the way, was on the other side of Friendship Island). Among the blue orbs, purple ones frequently found their place, while green and red ones could still be occasionally seen...

Yellow ones were rare gems in the ocean of awful memories.

Sadness despondently thought of his friend, Joy, and how little time he had at the wheel. The blue emotion looked out further, to the distance, where an abrupt change occured in Long Term storage. Like a curtain of blackness, the glowing memories suddenly stopped, all of them turned off like lightbulbs. The emotions, try as they might, could never remember a time before all those memories became inaccessible, but Sadness often looked out across the dark wall of amnesia, and hoped against hope that - if those orbs were to suddenly light up again - they would mostly be golden, or - at the very least - have an equal share of happiness. Joy never had much of a chance to do his job, after all. And it was times like this that made it so special to him...

Well, now, especially.

Sadness and the others looked back at Joy, whose smile was brighter than the Core Memory he had created.

"Sadness..." Joy began, looking to his boss for permission, "C-Can I... can I have the wheel longer, still? I-I mean..."

They all walked back to the console, and Sadness flicked a few buttons (though he didn't make Joy get out of the driver's seat). He just needed to make sure... and he briefly let their host consider the situation, and all the times they'd been bullied, and how this moment stood out among the others. Satisfied, though, that he'd gotten this taken care of, Sadness smiled. He never did that. And he also hardly ever let Joy have the wheel long, but this time was different. This time, they needed it. And Sadness knew it. So he patted Joy's shoulder before saying, "Knock yourself out."

Joy blinked, unbelieving.

So Sadness reiterated, "Go ahead. Let's crank this into high gear."

A second of silence passed. Then Joy screamed, ecstatic, as he gave the wheel a hard crank with one hand. The other shot down to a shiftstick beside the chair. He jerked it down, then slammed a foot on the gas pedal nestled under the console. An "input" meter to his right lit up yellow, bar shooting all the way to the top. "I love it!" he screamed, "I love it, I love it, I love it!"

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, Vanellope Von Schweetz had exploded into a fit of joy on seeing the kart that Ralph had helped her make. "I love it..." she had said, quietly, still numb in utter awe.

"What?" Ralph had said. He didn't believe his ears. Did she really say that? He had been under the impression that she'd dislike it, despise it even - it was lopsided, uncouth, and generally unsightly, but...

"I love it!" She exclaimed, suddenly dancing around it happily, zipping in circles with a smile cut across her rosy cheeks, "I love it, I love it, I love it!" she went around, admiring the creation, kissing the wheels, eager to finally start driving it. All while Ralph stood, as awestruck as his little friend had been seconds ago. He'd never made anyone happy before. He was real good at upsetting people, at being the bad guy, but... is this what it felt like? Is this what it was like to be a hero, to make someone so happy? He couldn't help the warm feeling blanketing his chest when Vanellope ran over to a nearby shelf, grabbing two frosting tubes.

"A work like this must be signed," she said with a smirk.

* * *

 _There ya go! I loved writing this one, guys, I really did. It was adorable, heartwarming, and generally assuring to me that I'm getting a better grip on writing more tender moments between characters. So... yay!_

 _As to the clues:_

 _1\. The console itself was a major hint. It was tiny, for one, so this couldn't be for anyone who's an adult._

 _2\. Secondly, this console was decked out like a racecar, with a wheel and a seat and pedals, so that's another hint._

 _3\. A subtle hint (or maybe not-so-subtle, if you picked up on it) was the candy-themed items everywhere: the sugar-coated floor, the candy shaped buttons, the chocolate used to make the statues on the Islands, all of it hinted at Sugar Rush._

 _4\. The Personality Islands. This was the moment where Vanellope - I feel - became friends with Ralph. And naturally, a Core Memory would've been made to ensure this. The other Islands, of course, were hints at the character being a bullied outcast._

 _5\. Another hint was the lack of activity from Joy when you look out at Long Term - let's face it, Vanellope's life to that point wasn't fun, it was miserable. Rarely would there have been happiness in it._

 _6\. The blacked out expanse of orbs in Long Term signified the lack of Memory Vanellope had from her memory code being locked up (also, I wonder how that would look were this concept explored further with Wreck-it-Ralph? My gosh, we're entering trippy territory when you talk about game characters being influenced by code which would also play with their minds, so... wouldn't that mean the code interacts with their minds at some point? Would we see tendrils of data reaching down from the sky? I dunno, it's weird to think about)._

 _7\. Of course, another one: Joy's last lines were Vanellope's first lines in the scene. "I love it, I love it I love it I love it!"_


	14. Fight, Run, Grab a Gun

_This one's from an animated movie..._

* * *

Nobody was surprised, least of all Fear. For the past several months, he and Disgust had alternately been warning the other emotions of the danger threatening their host. It seemed like the two brothers would never shut up, in fact, pointing out the untrustworthiness of their subordinates at every opportunity. If it wasn't Disgust observing the utter lack of social etiquette they possessed, even for someone of such low rank, it was Fear noting how quickly mouths would stop moving and eyes would start glancing their direction whenever they walked in. This, coupled with the curious "accident" ending the life of their most trusted worker - not to mention the things they'd heard the crew say when they thought themselves unobserved - painted a treacherous picture...

This isn't to say that the other emotions didn't expect it, of course, merely that they all knew their hands were thoroughly tied. In the first place, they had no grounded accusations to bring to court. Without concrete evidence to substantiate their suspicions, they'd waste their efforts attempting legal action. Furthermore, they found themselves compassed about, their only allies a mere boy and a stuttering nincompoop. Clearly not the ideal friends in a fight.

But fortune comes in strange forms, now, doesn't it? Had their enemies not so suddenly sprung the trap, chances are the emotions would be spending their final moments watching their host bleed out in some godforsaken corner of the map. As matters stood, their enemies acted, and - by doing so - sprung into the light. Now, assuming they could hold them off long enough to reclaim their means of transport, a court would be a mere formality between their enemies and the tight end of a taut rope.

All this was considered in the flash of an eye, and - having had so many months to prepare and plan for this moment - the emotions acted the instant that boy ran in, panting, warning of mutiny and murder.

"Alright," Disgust snapped as he took his seat at the console's head. Surrounded by gleaming brass works and seated in a fairly large navy blue chair, he looked every bit the captain he was. He didn't waste time before acting the part, either, "Joy, hold off on intruding in matters until we can safely say we're in the clear."

"Aye-aye, sir," Joy saluted, eyes uncharacteristically grim.

"Fear, keep us tense and focused - we don't want to muck up our chances now that we've got those bungling rapscallions out in the open."

"Yes, sir," Fear said, swallowing the lump that had built in his throat. He kept the appropriate dial turned to its setting, leaning forward and eyeing the glowing view above for any signs of hostility.

"Sadness, status?"

"Rotten luck of it all," the blue girl said, "We're probably going to lose the whole blasted ship. Chances are we'll be stranded, too... until _they_ catch up, of course."

That news fell like a blow from a hammer. It stung them all, but especially Disgust, whose pride was the largest. But he knew that such stinging was good. It could be used. "You hear that, Fear?" Disgust asked, determination as cold as steel seizing his chest, "More fuel for that fire, let's stay motivated, now!"

"A-Aye!"

"Anger!" Disgust barked, "Are you prepped?"

The red one let out a heavy burst of air before she said, "Yes, sir! I've been ready to put down those mangy dogs since before we started."

Through the flickering hologram in front of them came a voice, asking them what their plan was. Anger and Disgust got to it right away, simultaneously punching in console commands as their host loaded up a pistol and explained - in no uncertain terms - that they intended to have the blasted traitors dangling from the gallows (those that survived the inevitable fury of their former superior's vengeance, that is).

They checked one of the handguns. Loaded. Good. They chucked it to their only other ally, the babbling doctor whose timidity did hold a certain charm, but who - right now - was proving to be little more than another target for the enemies to gun down: he confessed that he'd never fired a gun in his life. Said confession came when he misfired the weapon, blasting a nearby object to bits and startling Fear all at once.

Anger grimaced. Disgust rolled his eyes. Sadness mourned their slim pickings of confederates.

But, of course, beggars can't be choosers, now could they? So long as no other atrocious luck came raining down on them, all would be well. Disgust, focused back on the screen with catlike intensity, noted that they held the source of all this trouble; the information stored in such a tiny object would be the only thing keeping their enemies from blasting their unfortunate hides to kingdom come. As long as they had what the others needed, they wouldn't risk too much gunfire. Disgust considered this only for a moment, then noticed what Fear already picked up on: the mob was breaking through their door. They were as good as rats in a trap unless they acted _now_. "Anger," he said, "Give it to the boy; he'll have to keep it safe while we mow down the dense-brained galoots inviting themselves in."

Anger nodded briskly and - not too heated, merely stern - instructed the youth to hold their precious cargo.

They didn't wait a second more before blasting a hole in the ground and diving down through the ship's bay, running in tight corridors with their two allies, jumping barrels and sliding under pipes, all in hopes of reaching escape in time.

"In time" was an exaggeration, but they _did_ make their escape, if only by the skin of their teeth, amid a barrage of bright blue streaks as gunfire echoed across the bay. While the firefight raged on, Fear had gained more and more influence on the situation, with Anger joining him. A mixture of purple and red kept flowing out to the shelves like so many marbles, and it was all that kept them honed in during the chaos. They took a risk, then. They (along with the scrawny armed weakling of a doctor) shot away the last restraint between them and freedom, and - as they jetted away from the ship, towards the planet they'd come so far to reach - Fear lessened his grip only slightly: they needed to stay on guard. Three against an entire crew of criminals? The odds weren't ideal.

Well, almost. They still had the one item the scoundrels needed, and that had to count for something, after all.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, Captain Amelia of the R.L.S. Legacy set her steely feline eyes ahead, at the atmosphere that splashed across their escape ship. "Parameters met," she said aloud (more out of habit than of any need to inform Jim or the doctor) as she punched in instructions to the tiny computer "Hydraulics engaged!"

The longboat shot out further, and - for the slightest fraction of a second - it looked as though they'd be safe, able to land on the planet far below in time to get their bearings, take in their situation, and formulate a plan to strike back at the pirates that had too easily taken the ship from them. Mr. Scroop, Grewnge, the others... they'd all pay for this. They'd hang. Silver, especially, the "cook." She briefly wondered to herself just how thick his rope would need to be, or if a firing squad would save some trouble. In fact-

"Captain!" squeaked Doppler's voice, "Laser ball at twelve o'clock!"

Only it wasn't twelve o'clock, she mentally noted as she yanked her head up to see it. It was actually closer to five thirty or six, relative to the boat's position. Additionally, only a civilian would call an ion-charged flaming projectile a "laser ball," but such a point was irrelevant.

It hit them. She felt searing pain. They began to plummet to the surface of Treasure Planet.

* * *

 _Okay, then. Another one down, and from another film that, I confess, I like but not many people do. To each his own, of course - Treasure Planet's pretty good, in its own right. Certainly a fun movie, with good aesthetics, animation, and decent character development, in my opinion. But, of course, it's not very popular, and it's its lack of popularity that makes me think it would be good for a guessing game. So, there ya go. Whether I succeeded or not we shall see, but for now let's just take a look at the clues I left._

 _1\. Let's start with the buildup I gave, illustrating a captain whose crew was untrustworthy. I feel I sufficiently explored this in the first few paragraphs, mentioning all the buildup going on in the back of the captain's mind. Really, if you watch the movie, she never trusted the crew all the way - she's no idiot, after all. I personally feel that she knew they couldn't be trusted, but also knew they wouldn't be a threat she couldn't handle with the right leverage and counter-planning._

 _2\. I tried to make all her emotions speak like her, with the same_ _sesquipedalian loquaciousness* she's known for sprinkling in throughout her sentences. Maybe I hit, maybe I missed. But that's another clue I was aiming for._

 _3\. The series of events, of course, parallels the story from the moment the pirates attack to when the heroes make their escape on the lifeboat._

 _4\. I mentioned her having only two allies: one a scrawny doctor, another a young boy. These are, of course, Dr. Doppler and Jim Hawkins, respectively. I would've included Morph, but somehow I feel he wasn't quite on the Captain's radar during the debacle._

 _5\. "..._ _the source of all this trouble; the information stored in such a tiny object would be the only thing keeping their enemies from blasting their unfortunate hides to kingdom come..."_ _\- a reference, of course, to the map Jim had procured. Note also that I used "kingdom come," which should call to mind Long John Silver's later threat to Jim, and - of course - nudge the readers slightly in the right direction._

 _6\. The fact that they're on a ship was apparent, I believe, and a huge hint in and of itself, especially when coupled with the other aesthetics mentioned._

 _7\. Speaking of aesthetics, I hope my use of mentioning the brass console, the holographic monitor, and Disgust's big captain's chair were good hints._

 _8\. Disgust was in charge. I think this is befitting of Captain Amelia, though not in the same way you might think - her Disgust is more used for her general quick comebacks, dagger-sharp sense of humor, and - of course - her commanding attitude (might I add, also, that this made her a_ very _fun character to write? Heck, Disney, if you're reading this (you're not), I'd watch an entire movie with her as the protagonist - maybe something taking place before Treasure Planet: she obviously has a decorated & distinguished history, after all. _That _would be a fun ride, if I do say so myself)._

 _9\. I mentioned Disgust being focused on the screen with "catlike intensity." Amelia, of course, is of a feline-looking alien species. So, another hint._

 _And that's about it for hints. There might be one or two tiny ones that I overlooked, but those were the essentials. I hope it wasn't too hard! But - then again - many of you will likely not get this simply for the fact that Treasure Planet wasn't occurring to you at all, or that it wasn't a movie you've seen. I can only offer my apologies - like I said at the start, you can't be blamed if it's a movie or story you've never seen before._

 **Also, A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: Starting today, I will be updating this story _daily_ for twelve days, ending on Christmas Eve! Why? Because I feel like it, that's why! Happy Holidays!**

 **However, this _does_ mean I'll take a brief one or two week long break afterwords, heh. After that, I'll be back to a regular schedule.**

* * *

*Frequently speaking with big words.


	15. The Waiting Game

**I am sincerely sorry for the length of this one. But trust me - you'll understand _why_ it couldn't be any longer come the end of it. Some entries here just shouldn't run on long, and some of them (like this one) would become excessively bland or repetitive if I prioritized word count over painting a verbal picture.**

* * *

 _This one's from a video game..._

* * *

In a word, the veritable palace known as HQ could be described as... Pink. The color was everywhere. From the coral blush of the various columns supporting the place to the salmon carpet trimmed with gold (resting atop light red tiles), everything had some sort of pink color to it. Royal pink tapestries. Gold-and-pink steps. Pink tinted windows to Long Term Storage outside, where the Personality Islands were soaked in the color as well. And - yes - even five pink thrones for five emotions seated at a marble console (whose buttons were various shades of... well, by this point, you get it).

Like bookends, Disgust and Anger sat on each side. She, combing her hair for the fifth time that day, looked deliberately in a hand-held mirror, as if to avoid having to face the horrible world outside. He, ever the regal one, tightly clutched a scepter in one hand as he adjusted his fur coat, glaring at the window to the outside world, gritting his teeth helplessly. Beside her red-tempered brother, Fear trembled and shook, nearly spilling her tea yet again as she sipped it. The Darjeeling's orange would not look so well splattered across her elegant violet dress. Across, her brother - Sadness - was also trembling, but for far different reasons. He had tears looking up at the window outside, too, crying in sorrow. Currently, he clutched his gold staff in one hand, but - in the other - he held a lever that was shoved as far forward as could go, producing one sad (and sometimes sad-and-fearful, depending on whether Fear had pressed the button at the time or not) orb after the other. The little blue spheres were lining the shelves in precise order, each one created with a faint tingling bell and a soft tap as it found its place. The white glass shelves were in perfect order. Hardly a joyful memory could be found for the day, and it wouldn't be hard to see why: Joy himself sat center console. Usually the most active of them, today just wasn't the best. He sat there, adjusting his crown and stroking his neat blue beard, but otherwise remained silent and morose.

So it was, and so it had been for the past few days, ever since they were imprisoned in this dreadful dungeon, suspended in a rotten cage like bait in a trap, with those dreadful guards to laugh at them during the day, and the nights full of terror from the horrid sounds echoing off the walls and the glowing rivers beside them (whose stifling heat was unbearable). But - on occasion - Joy would get a chance to call back a memory orb from a recall pipe above, and as its golden hue would play on screen, all five emotions would be filled with hope: hope that rescue would come soon.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a lonely figure sat in a lonely cage in a lonely castle.

Her dress was soaked with sweat, her crown was resting on matted hair, and her weary eyes were bloodshot from the numerous tears, but - above all else - Princess Peach knew that Mario would come to save her from King Koopa's awful reptilian clutches. He always had in the past, and he always would in the future. That much she knew for certain.

She just had to wait.

* * *

 _I am so sorry. I told you it was short, didn't I? But - of course - I wanted to do this for a while, and the point of "Whose Mind is it, Anyway?" is_ not _to pick emotional moments or moments that have large emotional impact (though I can do that, of course), but - rather - the point is to pick unique_ characters _, characters whose minds you'd stop and think, "Huh, I wonder what's going on inside their heads?" So, while you might find this a boring or dull moment, I didn't choose it for its excitement or emotion (nor have I chosen any of these for that purpose), but - rather - for the character, and I think Princess Peach is a good candidate._

 _She's so overlooked when you're playing the Mario Bros. games, really: alone, waiting how many days for help, in a lava-filled dungeon, at the hands of a monster? Yeesh, not too fun! As much as it's a physical struggle for Mario to reach her, I think - if we were to take the time to watch Peach for a bit - we'd see a mental struggle. It's what I tried depicting here, albeit in a subtle fashion, rather than an all-out, "Everything's falling to bits and we're all panicking" fashion._

 _The clues were as follows:_

 _1\. HQ was pink. I think I made this very obvious, and Peach's taste in color is - in turn - very obvious in every Mario game I've ever played. She loves pink, and I figured her emotions would decorate HQ that way, as a natural extension of their host's taste._

 _2\. HQ was also elegant and shaped like a palace (I even called it the "veritable palace known as HQ") - this should've pointed you in the direction of someone who's royalty._

 _3\. Also, every emotion was described with some aspect of Peach's clothing or something that would indicate royalty or nobility: Disgust's gloves, Anger's scepter and fur coat, Fear's elegant dress, Sadness's gold staff, and Joy's crown. These were all obviously pointing to a monarch of some kind._ _Fear's Darjeeling was meant to indicate royalty or someone of the upper class, too, though this clue wasn't as big of a hint._

 _4\. Everything was in neat, tidy order, in spite of the extreme distress of their host. Why? Because that's how Peach rolls. Heh, I've noticed that about her in the cut scenes or various little promotional images or even her character animations in the various Mario games: she is always the epitome of daintiness and social etiquette, so I daresay she wouldn't make an exception even for being imprisoned in an enemy kingdom's dungeon._

 _5\. Joy was told to be "usually the most active of them," showing that whoever was going through this miserable situation, it was_ not _the norm for them, and that they were usually a happy person._

 _6\. The whole last paragraph explicitly spelled out their situation quite bluntly, and I think I may have given too much away here. But, come on, you have to admit there wasn't much to work with in the first place with this character, heh. Hopefully you realize why I wasn't able to make this one as long as the others now. Sorry again. But I do hope it was still a fun guessing game! That's the point, after all, to make a guessing game out of "Inside Out," and I'd say I've accomplished my mission here._


	16. Just Think Happy Thoughts

_This one's from an animated movie..._

 _Yes, I know. I just like animated movies, 'kay, guys?_

* * *

Sadness sniffled. "We're..." she began, but her own sobs cut her off. Hers was the only voice speaking, bouncing off the intricate brick walls. It sprung back, reflecting from the surface of the purple and blue (and still sometimes golden) memories lining Short-Term storage, and hit the ears of four emotions. All eyes were on the cloud-like monitor before them. The little blue one sucked a breath in, let it out, and got some semblance of control over her sobs. "We're homeless..."

The monitor's glossy surface showed the rubble from the city they so knew and loved, as pitiful as wreckage of a ship. Cries, screams, could still faintly be heard amid the flames. Sadness's moaning, groaning sobs came back in force. She convulsed and - drawn by an unseen force - scurried to the console, reaching for it. Disgust noticed, and lept after her.

"No!" she shouted, "No, we're not allowed to be sad! Stop!"

She tackled the blue one, who had just shoved one of the many vibrant, rainbow-colored buttons poking out of the console. Disgust pinned her down, glaring. Sadness fought back, though, tears ripping out her eyes. She needed to press buttons. She felt drawn to it. She _needed_ to be there, right now - and nothing could draw her focus away, not even a violent red light fading in from the back.

It did, however, get Disgust's attention, and Joy's, and Fear's. Heads swiveled and looked at another one of them. Her crimson features were iron-set, and her snarling face was looking forward. In fact, were it not for her eyes briefly widening on seeing the sight on-screen, you would think her face was nothing more than a sticker, sealed on in a permanent scowl.

"Who are you?" Fear asked nervously, hiding behind Joy.

"Outta my way," the newcomer said, shoving past them and up to the console.

If nobody intervened, it was for the sheer shock of it all. Not seconds ago, there had only been four of them up here, and yet there she is: a new one counted among their numbers, a tail of flame trailing her as she marched up to the console. She took one look at the screen. An eye twitched.

"Who did this?" she demanded.

"B-B-Bad guys!" was Sadness's tear-filled response. Disgust's arms were struggling harder and harder to keep her from standing. "They came a-and they shot everyone, and- and-..."

The red one spat on the ground, shoved a lever, then slammed a fist into the console, and the four others felt a burning feeling, faint, tiny, radiating from the new one. It was... how to describe it? JoDisgust would say it felt like feeling repulsed at how unfair the world was. Fear would describe it as, "Being afraid of not what would happen if you didn't attack," and Sadness would call it the feeling you get when you are so sad that you want to punch something. Joy would simply say it felt like his polar opposite. He thought for the longest time that that was Sadness, but - no - this one was definitely a feeling that negated Joy in every way.

And for that, nobody liked it.

Disgust sprang up, off the blue one, on seeing the burning red memory flaring up and coming to a stop on a shelf near the others. Her mouth dangled open.

"Disgust!" Joy hissed, "Stop her, now!"

Disgust didn't need second telling. She tackled the newcomer off the console, whose plastic surface was all but burning crimson, and quickly pulled the lever back down. Green took place of red, wiping it neatly from existence. That done, she stared at the newcomer.

"Alright, who the heck are you?" she asked.

"Get off me!"

"Not 'till you answer-"

A blue light. Disgust just had enough time to roll her eyes before looking back to the side, where Sadness had again taken residence at the console. Fresh tears came clattering to the floor around her and she was tapping, pressing, shoving as many buttons as she could. Her green sibling made a move to stop her, but Joy was already on it.

He shoved Sadness to the side, quickly seeking to undo the damage done thus far. "Okay, think Joy, think... Positive... gotta stay positive and happy..." Hands went to the keypad and punched in orders. A recall tube clicked down, and a memory popped right into place. Through golden hues, they recalled some delicious bubblegum.

Sadness sprung up and knocked it down.

"It's useless!" she cried, "There's no more bubblegum anywhere! We'll never taste it again!"

Joy slapped in another order. A new memory. A pretty little butterfly flicking its wings in the air.

Sadness headbutted it, forcing it down. "I don't wanna watch that!" she sobbed, "I wanna go home! But we can't! 'Cause it's gone! Gone! Gone! Gone!"

Fear was at the console, too. "I'm sorry!" she said, "I'm sorry, but we're in danger here! Does nobody else see that?!"

"Fear, now is really not the time-"

"Come on, we gotta get out! We gotta-"

"Where, Fear, where?" Joy asked, "Where could we possibly go?!"

"We just- we- w-..." Fear racked her little purple brain, but nothing came out... she sighed in defeat.

But Joy wasn't giving up. He recalled the thought of a carnival, with delicious cotton candy-

Sadness's crying blew up and startled Joy. She scurried over to the console, this time managing to shove the vibrant yellow one aside, and flopped on it, pounding her head on the various buttons and jolting and moaning and generally doing what she did best. Joy stood up and headed over, intent on rebuking his blue friend one more time. But then he saw her face. He noticed how horrible she felt, how pained she looked. He noticed the tears swelling and crashing like waves in an ocean, and he noticed that anything he could do would only make it worse.

He stepped back, and let Sadness take the helm. Joy couldn't do a thing to make them feel better. Maybe someone on the outside could, but not in here. No, in here it was just the four of them, unable to do a thing...

Or, well, the five of them, rather.

Joy raised a curious eyebrow in the direction of the newcomer, who was no longer on fire, but who still bore a look of resentment at Disgust.

"Who are you, anyways?"

"Anger. And it's high time I got here, I might add."

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a single submarine - a hodgepodge of a thing made from a variety of Lego bricks - was swimming in the ocean, among the wreckage of Cloud Cuckoo Land. The obnoxiously bright and cheerful place had been brought to nothing, now mere rubble floating in the sea as Lord Business's forces swept up the remains.

Inside the sub, Princess Unikitty was not coping with the loss of her kingdom.

Shoulders slouched, eyes glistening, tail drooping, she was the picture of despair. And her companions all felt the pain she felt as she sighed and began sobbing, having failed to stay happy.

Emmett went to her side, patting her on the shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Unikitty," he said, "Do you want to sit down and talk about it?"

This last phrase was accompanied by a gesture to a confusing sight: a couch. Two couches, in fact. One on top of the other. A double-decker couch. Its presence was a blemish on reality. An odd thing that, try as you might, you'd never find a reason for its existence, other than to confound and confuse everyone who gazed on it.

Batman summed it up nicely.

"What... the heck... is that?"

* * *

 _Alright, if you've seen the Lego movie, you know what scene this is talking about: the scene where Princess Unikitty (...could've been a less cringe-inducing name, in my opinion) witnesses her home laid to waste by the bad guy's forces. I liked writing this, it felt natural, and - I believe - it made for a good guessing game. Now, onto the clues!_

 _1\. I mentioned brick walls. Now, I know that Legos aren't "brick" bricks, but it's not supposed to paint the full picture, it's merely supposed to put you in the right direction is all. No use giving away all the clues at once, after all._

 _2\. As per usual, the events line up with what was happening in that scene in the Lego Movie, and - yes - it's somewhat a spoiler, but not really considering the grander scheme of the plot. Trust me, it's good and this scene isn't going to spoil the Lego Movie for you if you haven't seen it yet (which, if you're an Inside Out fan who hasn't seen the Lego Movie, may I say that you should totally check it out and rent it sometime? Seriously, it's great)._

 _3\. Kinda along the same lines, this is the birth of Anger for Unikitty (ugh, still do not like typing that name). I don't know if it's for sure that this is the first time she's felt Anger, but the dialogue leads you to believe that. "I feel something inside... it's like, the opposite of happiness!" Yeah, makes me think this is the first time she's ever felt angry._

 _4\. Along the same lines, you see that Joy, Fear, and Disgust all three do not like Sadness taking the helm. This is neat, because it parallels Riley in a way, so I liked the chance to write a character with similar conflicts. Very neat. Not the best chapter in the world, nor did it have to be, but it did make for some neat moments._

 _5\. I took special care to mention that the console was made of plastic. Did ya catch that?_

 _6\. I also made sure to never mention any of the emotions_ grabbing _anything so much as pressing it or nudging it. This was a tiny clue, not really much of one, but it's there, and I feel like I should point it out. Unikitty has no fingers; she has paws._

 _7\. The memories that Joy recalls directly reflect her dialogue as she tries to keep herself upbeat, but her Sadness keeps pushing 'em down: "Bubblegum! Uh... Butterflies! Uh..." (she sees the big dog building break in half) "Cotton candy?" (breaks down completely)_

 _So, there ya go. Not exactly the deepest of characters, but - if Peach proved this - they don't need to be deep or impactful to be an entertaining guessing game. I aim for interesting minds, and - in spite of how annoying I_ do _find this character - hers is fairly interesting, in my opinion. And there ya go._


	17. Let's Have Some Fun

_This one's from a movie based off a comic book..._

* * *

On one hand, Fear - and, for that matter, Sadness - had been dead (or would the word be "gone?") for a while. On the other hand, maybe they never existed in the first place. Either way, the point is that Anger felt almost frightened by what he was seeing. Almost. A torrent of debris washed over their host as the vehicle flipped in a crash. Glass shattered as metal crushed and the world tipped over. When it settled, though, Anger realized they were still alive, and - furthermore - what fear he felt was crushed, like a bug. Naturally, he fell back to his basic instinct, and rage overpowered any scrap of anything else. He smashed his bottle of alcohol across the console's surface, then flung it without a second thought. Its shards rained over the busted furniture behind him. Its crystal-clear contents splattered around the room in puddles. Joy thought this was funny. In fact, he thought it was hilarious. See, he dove, seizing Anger - whose head was by that point on fire.

"What do you think you're-"

Joy spat out a laugh, then flung Anger into the puddle, igniting it (and - by consequence Anger (and - by consequence - Joy himself) in blazing hot flickering tongues). As the flames erupted, they scorched previous burn marks of the room. And Joy erupted, too: he erupted into a fit of giggling, as though it were the first time he'd played such a prank. His flaming form curled up against the console, slamming fists into the ground, tears rolling out his eyes. Convulsing, exploding laughter cracked his lungs, matched in volume only by Anger's roar. _That_ sound gave Joy pause for thought.

"For crying out loud!" Anger snarled, "I just cleaned this suit!"

For a dangling second, Joy took in the words...

Then the grin returned, and he slammed the back of his skull against the console with a new outburst. His laughter was so rubbery. It bounced off the battered, cracked stucco and exposed supports of HQ. Only Disgust could protest. She was trying to apply a third coat of lipstick, after all. "Shut up!" she shouted, "I can't concentrate!"

"His f-f-face, though!" Joy sputtered, "His- his face!" the golden one's hands (still aflame) flung up and pulled his blue eyes open as wide as they could go as he added, "His eyes were this big! They-" and his words trailed off, swallowed by more laughter. The only thing that stopped it was Anger's clamp across his throat, and - even then - Joy's smile obstinately remained. Anger drug his "friend" across the room and slammed him against the cracked window. Eye met eye, while Joy's grin grew.

"Think it's funny?!" Anger roared, "Think its funny to set me on fire again?"

Joy, through his tears, nodded.

"You know what's funnier?" he asked, "Seeing you, drop down, down, down into that dump! That'd be just _hilarious!_ "

The only sign that any of this was getting through was a smaller smile on Joy's part. A smile, of course, but a smaller one. Anger considered wiping the grin of Joy's face by yanking his tie tight, thought better of it, then groaned and flung the other back across the room. After that, the red brick wasted only a second to glance out the window.

Above the Memory Dump was the ring of rubble orbiting HQ - remains of Personality Islands, like Saturn. Once in a while, the pieces would clutter together to make some semblance of a landmass, but those moments were over as quickly as they started, and the rubble claimed its own once more, swirling like a stream above the Memory Dump. Only one personality Island stayed obstinately still, and that one was hard to pick out from among the rest, as it - too - was nothing more than an indiscriminate mass of wreckage.

The only thing more cluttered and disjointed than that was Long Term; in lieu of shelving, the Mind had apparently opted for a more freeform approach to organization. Like sands of the Arabian Desert, countless memory orbs rested in piles and mounds for as far as the eye could see, with small teams of mindworkers crawling across them- like ants. Attempts at recovery (if this place had ever been in any decent state in the first place) were just useless. Half the time the mindworkers would send up whatever memory they wanted, regardless of how smeared, blurry, or useless it was. Hilarious. Simply hilarious.

Anger blinked, shook his head, and walked back to the console, where Joy was waiting. "Come on!" Joy pleaded, "Let's get up off the ground!"

"Hang on, hang on!" Anger shoved a lever. Their host stood up.

Then fell again, tripping over a piece of their crashed vehicle.

Anger grunted. The lever was shoved once more. They got up finally.

"Yes!" Joy hissed, cracking his knuckles. He seized a button, shoving it down once. "He's there!"

On-screen, their enemy was coming. For them. Was this it? Was it finally gonna happen?

Would they finally take him down the way they'd always wanted?

Joy held his breath, the grin growing.

"He's closer! He's closer!"

Even Disgust was looking up at the screen. All three emotions had their attentions latched to what was unfolding before them. Anticipation.

Anger noted someone else approaching, trying to intervene.

"No!" he shouted, twisting the knob.

They yanked up their gun and blasted a few loose bullets. The person went down. Now wasn't time for extras. Back to the star of the show.

"Come on, come on, come on, bring it!" Anger snarled, "Bring it on!"

The enemy approached.

Joy's grin returned twofold. Pearly white teeth cut themselves across a growing smile.

The enemy approached.

Another laugh coughed its way out. The golden emotion's breath struggled to keep up as the chuckling cascaded up his throat.

The enemy approached.

Joy rocked and his legs became weak as his laughter blew up, ripping out of his jaw like so many shotgun slugs. Spittle, too, flung out. He lost his grip. He stumbled and fell to the ground, slamming his fist onto the still-flaming floor.

The enemy approached.

Joy meekly crawled to the console. He pulled himself up, and he stared at the screen as best he could through the watery tears. His laughter redoubled and he kicked the console fitfully. His lungs burned to fuel it all, and he lost his breath. More erupting guffaws.

And...

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, the man who was only known as "The Joker" was standing in the middle of the road, staring down Gotham's oh-so-high-and-mighty protector, the Bat Man. In purple gloved hands, a machine gun rested. Beneath makeup serving as a mockery of circus clowns, two hateful eyes gleamed. No smile road his face (save two jagged cuts which may or may not have been his own), but inside he felt utter exhilaration. He stood, hoping his pushing, pushing, pushing up to this point would all pay off.

"Come on, I want you to do it. I want you to do it..." he muttered.

He dropped his arms to his sides, letting them go limp as his eyes stared down the enemy.

"Come on, hit me..."

Batman's motorbike came closer, the dark knight on his dark steed, come to slay the dragon.

"Come on, hit me. Hit me!"

He wanted to do it. The clown could tell. The bat wanted to do it, to reduce him to a red smear on the pavement.

Hopefully he'd live just long enough to spit on his face and laugh at his moral defeat.

The bat was closer.

He came close-

 _"Hit me!"_ he roared. Not many knew he possessed such a guttural tone; most that heard it didn't talk again. This time, though? This time would be different. This time-

Batman yelled, he swerved, he missed and slammed into the truck the madman had just been driving.

Then the dark knight fell, limp, to the ground. No crescendo. No finesse. No climax. Just a buzzkill, and the Joker was left feeling utterly disappointed.

See, he didn't like being disappointed.

He flicked open his switchblade and began his approach.

* * *

 _I don't like the Joker's mind. Not. One. Bit. Lol, seriously, very creepy. I went with the Dark Knight version because - I will unashamedly admit - it's the one I'm most familiar with. No, I won't do another version of the Clown Prince of Crime; I've made my entry, I think I've done his mind a lot of justice, and I'm not ashamed that I'm not a big viewer of the comics or much other Batman material. Trying another version? I just wouldn't be able to do it justice, I don't think._

 _Anyways, onto the hints!_

 _1\. Disgust, Anger, and Joy were the only emotions felt. Now, keep in mind we're talking about the Dark Knight version of the Joker, and - from all I've seen in the film - he never displayed Fear or Sadness. No regrets for his actions. No worry or panic. But he did express Disgust at the mob many times, Anger when his plans (and yes, he had plans - part of the genius of his character is his blatant, unabashed hypocrisy) failed, and Joy when-... well, when he was doing terrible things._

 _2\. I mentioned Anger's suit and Joy's tie. Joy having a tie was another hint. I mean, we all know the "default" Anger is one dressed in ties, but if Joy is wearing one? Should tell you that the character in question wears a tie._

 _3\. Disgust was applying a third layer of makeup. I just wanted to get across this image of her really caking it on, to the point of excess. Don't even tell me the Joker wasn't excessive with his makeup in the film, heh._

 _4\. Joy is prone to laughter. Violently painful laughter. Need I say more? Also worth mentioning is how he laughed even when (or - rather - especially when) he was in pain or causing pain._

 _5\. The state of the Islands of Personality - the Joker's personality is based around one thing: chaos. He might change how he fixates his chaos (the mob, Batman, Gotham), but it remains consistently inconsistent. Hence the rubble orbiting HQ._

 _6\. The Long Term memory was a reference to the Joker's "multiple choice past" that he had (and - correct me if I'm wrong - was this not a nod to the comics?), and how he may or may not actually know the truth, but it's obvious he lies to everyone he meets. I thought the perfect picture of this would be if Long Term memory was just a sea of spilled orbs, no shelves, no coherence._

 _7\. HQ (apart from being on fire) was in shambles. Stucco cracked, beams protruding, floor splintered. Definitely not meant to be the healthiest of minds, here._

* * *

 ** _Also, my apologies for the previous chapter, as it had an error in it. As pointed out by a guest reviewer, Unikitty_ did _experience anger previously, as she's introducing everyone to the city. So, yeah, my bad. I'm not taking the time or effort of changing it, but that was a mistake on my part, and I'll totally own up to it._**


	18. And so the Heart Breaks

_This one's from a Disney film..._

* * *

A frightened orb rolled out. Its tiny form was like a blue and purple Christmas ornament (in shape, not fragility; the memory within was potent), steadily sliding down the tracks to join the others on the shelves. When it came into contact with a golden neighbor, it bounced back as though repulsed at the touch. Not that it had much of a say in the matter; for a brief moment, a wall of gold memories had come up, lining the shelves up and down for the briefest period of time. Minutes, in fact. On the other side were more blue, purple, and mixed orbs, where the most recent one would have felt in place. But no, it wasn't to be. It was a sad, lonely little orb, on the other side of a golden wall, where it would remain for the rest of the day. The only other shift in position came with Joy's golden hands. He reached down and picked up the orb tenderly. He made contact, and winced out a frown. The blue light played off his gold glow, seeming to overpower it, splashing his face in the mournful color. Delicately, he swiped the surface, and let it play back. His eyes took in the memory of their friend, riding out into the cold winter night, swallowed by the fog. Joy looked up to see Disgust, and Anger, too. They looked into the orb with him. All three brothers wore complimenting variations of the same numb shock. Anger noticed that his heavy breathing had fogged up the orb, and so Disgust wiped it off, and the memory played again. Disgust was the first to look away, then Anger, who choked down a heavy breath. And, at last, Joy shuddered and flung his gaze off the orb and to the console.

Fear and Sadness stood there, the two sisters' hands locked in a feeble grip. The console still held their deep blue-and-violet glow. It stretched their shadows across the floor while their ragged, stitched clothes caught the brunt of the light. Beneath the hum emanating out from the console's crooked surface, one of the two sniffled. Silence drowned all else. No, not a breath could come in, nor a whisper of a cough, nor even the shuffle as Sadness and Fears' hands dropped limply to their sides, their eyes still swallowing the monitor, still gazing out into the night.

"I don't know what you expect." Anger's gruff tone rumbled, and the silence proved to be fragile after all, as it dissolved to make way. Joy's eyes followed as Anger walked over to the stone slab serving as a couch and threw himself onto it. Folded arms spelled contempt. "He's gone. He left us and he'll never be back."

"Anger..."

"No! It's true! It's true, Joy, it's true! He didn't like us, he never cared for us, and he didn't listen, now he's gone."

"Anger-"

"Goodbye, good riddance, I say!"

"Anger!"

"Will you shut up?!"

Joy stumbled under the verbal blow. His eyes blinked quickly, and he jerked his head away with a shudder. Anger let a glare burn in Joy's direction for a moment more before he grunted and turned away, too. Disgust, who now held the most recently made memory, stepped back. Uncertainty rode his features. He quietly turned and just set the orb down, on the shelf, next to the others. Its silent _clink_ was there, then gone, and nobody said a word.

Slowly, Sadness reached across the city of crooked wooden buttons and dented levers, mismatched and cobbled together, like a collage of clashing themes. Her soft blue finger touched a single wooden button, and it hesitated, resisting before the inevitable _snap_ of it being forced down. The surface's cracks and crevices lit blue. Their host took a walk, alone, down a gloomy back alleyway. They were surrounded by walls of crooked stone, peering down in confusion at the lone wanderer. Just like everyone else in town. Nobody listened to them, a nobody. Nobody cared about them, a nobody. Nobody had time for anybody but their leader. Their friend. And now he was off on his task, a smile on his face and a laugh in his throat, so blind (like everyone else) to the fate that waited to swallow him whole.

"This isn't good," Fear sighed, "Not-... not at all. It feels like..."

"He's gonna fall," Sadness finished with a nod.

Joy's head slowly turned up. A rueful smile came with a scoff. "You know, I'd hoped we'd be with him, right now."

Fear shook her head emphatically. "I know. But- but I have... I feel like-..." At a loss for words, she sighed, shoulders slouched.

Sadness again finished for her. "Tonight's his end."

Fear nodded, and looked out behind Headquarters. Her forlorn gaze stretched beyond the cracked windows and their splintered frames, to the Island where their friend glowed, his face a star in the sky as bright as a moon. Two violet eyes stayed locked to the sight. "He never noticed," said their owner. "He never noticed how we felt. And I don't think he ever will, will he?" Their gaze turned down to Sadness, who mournfully shook her head.

Faint tears trickled down her blue cheeks.

"It's not meant to be," she said. A sob broke out, but she kept the rest in as she stepped back to the buttons and levers. Fear was drawn back as well, cutting the invisible rope that held her eyes to their friend's grinning face out on that Island. While their host walked down the alleyway, passing three lonely band members playing away on a mournful funeral march of a song, Joy spoke up one last time.

"I don't think that you need me now," he said. His mournful blue eyes bounced around the others. Only Disgust met his gaze, so he painfully smiled at his brother, adding, "Everyone else out there's at festivities, but - really - do we have any reason to be happy now?"

"Y-You could try..." Sadness mumbled.

Joy smirked without an ounce of happiness to accompany it, and he quietly walked to the console. He looked up. A sniff. He flipped a switch, but the console rejected him, as it was wont to do at times like this. Sadness's posture visibly drooped, and Fear patted her back. Joy looked up to the lopsided view above, where the outside world waited. A stray alley cat lept up at them, though not in attack. They'd seen this one before, and it frequently let them hold and pet it. Joy tried once more, and - for the smallest span of time - a flicker of happiness was made, and a gold orb came into existence. Then the cat, distracted by some mouse or bug, scrambled off, and they were alone once more. Joy yanked his hands away from the console and slammed his eyes shut.

"Joy..." Sadness said.

Joy shook his head, then walked away. His gold body was swallowed up as he vanished behind the door to their bedrooms, leaving the other four to let the miserable situation soak in. They did, and as they did so, the melancholic notes from that three-man band trickled in like so many teardrops. In silence, they listened as the sad song played out.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, Christmas Eve had come to Halloweentown. All the wretched creatures of the night gathered around the well in the Town Square to see Jack Skellington, decked out in his "Sandy Claws" suit, cackling away and delivering their assortment of presents to unsuspecting children. All, that is, save a few. Among those few, Sally, the first creation of Dr. Finkelstein, shambled down an empty alleyway as the undead band members played away. She gave voice to her doubts in the night's foggy air, considering Jack, and the doomed quest he'd embarked on.

 _"Will we ever be back together?  
No, I think not. It's never to become,  
For I am not the one..."_

Joy had left her for the time being, and Sadness had come to wrap her cold arms around her, as Fear silently nodded, not doubting that this would be Jack's last night.

* * *

 _Well, gee, Merry Christmas! Ain't this just a happy chapter? So sorry that I put you through that. If it's any consolation..._

 _Well, I can't think of a consolation. Sorry. Onto the clues!_

 _1\. I went into detail about how the console was made up of a bunch of mismatched parts, like Sally herself, a Frankenstein monster of sorts._

 _2\. I did talk about the clothes worn by the characters as being rags, stitched together._

 _3\. Naturally, the dialogue and the actions all mirror the thought process of Sally. Here, after the briefest hope that she'd succeeded in stopping Jack, she fails, and her friend takes off to (what she has every right to believe is) his certain death. I extrapolated a bit here, and assumed that she'd have anger at herself (faintly) for not stopping Jack. It was never shown, but I really believe that that could be the case. Hence, Anger's snap at Joy._

 _4\. The Island of Personality has Jack's face on it, obviously, though I couldn't outright say it was Jack's face. It was the face of this friend whom the character obviously wanted to be more than friends to._

 _5\. Getting specific from hint number three, the whole part with the cat is taken directly from the film._

 _6\. I also mention that everything in her mind is crooked, oblong, or not quite right in some way. This is completely intentional, of course._


	19. Going on a Break

_This one's from real life..._

* * *

The five of them - while usually not of one mind on many things at all - made a rare agreement: this was a pointless endeavor.

They sat at the console, it sprawling form filled to the brim with letters and buttons and a plethora of functions, like a giant computer keyboard (if a keyboard had such functions as "sniff" and "eye roll" or if it had levers and knobs for "tension" and "scowl" or an "excitement meter"). Sadness was currently punching in a disappointed sigh while he sipped his drink. He set the mug down, scratched his stubble, and then he - too - let out a burst of air, shaking his head. "Everyone's gonna hate us," he said, "We failed! We didn't accomplish what we set out to do, again!"

"I know!" Anger snapped. She looked as upset as she sounded, "Joy, why'd you get us into this, huh? Why'd you think this was a good idea in the first place?!"

"I-I..." he began, but then stopped. The usually bright, energetic guy was all but defeated with the cold truth of reality: he'd gotten too ambitious once more, and their host was now unable to complete the task. "I know," he said, "I'm sorry."

Anger just scoffed and flicked a lever, and a red-and-blue orb came into existence. She glanced at it, made a move to speak, and was cut off by Fear's scream.

Her purple hands flung up to her mouth and she yelled again, proclaiming, "Oh no! Sadness is right!" her horrified gaze flung itself to the others as she sputtered out, "We- we failed and so- and so we're- they're gonna hate us- we'll... we'll lose all our readers! They'll track us down! They'll be disappointed, say mean things! We're utter failures!"

"We are!" Sadness moaned, then fell into tears.

Disgust slapped himself in the face with his cap, trying to use it to cover the utter embarrassment of the situation. A sigh and a grunt later, he put his cap and glasses back on, and cleared his throat. Sadness's moaning, Fear's whimpering, Anger's growling, and Joy's stream of apologies all drowned it out. So he cleared his throat again, louder this time.

That got their attention.

"Guys, really," he said, "I'm shocked."

"Oh, now he speaks!" Anger said, "Are you seriously telling me you do _not_ feel disappointed? Huh?!"

"I do!" Disgust defended, "Yeah, I feel disappointed in us, and I feel sickened by our own inability to commit to things lately, but you know what?"

All eyes looked to him.

"What?" Sadness asked.

"What was it you said earlier, Sadness?" Disgust asked, "What did you mention the other day?"

"I-I said that we need-... needed... hang on..."

The little blue thing reached down and blew his nose once more, clearing the remnants of misery.

"Okay, better... Anyways, I think I said that we needed a break, bad. And I still think so!" he quickly pulled up memories of the past week, each one a different _thing_ that had taken up their time: project after project, scrolling past, building frustration and stress. Disgust nodded silently as the recalled orbs played one after the other, glancing over at Joy. Joy looked as guilty as ever.

When the brief slideshow ended, Disgust spoke again.

"I agree," he said, "It's obvious, really. Joy?" he leaned over and patted his gold friend on the back, "I'm sorry, but you've gotten us in over our heads. Again."

Joy ruefully nodded. "I know. I'm sorry."

"And I know you're sorry," said the green one, "So... why don't you do what you do best?" he pulled out a small green post-it note, and pencil, and passed them to Joy, who took them with a confused look. Disgust continued, "Why don't you come up with an idea? Come on, let's find a creative way of doing this."

Joy looked down at the paper, still somewhat confused, but it was obvious that the gears were turning in his head.

Sadness caught onto it, and actually smiled. "Hey, yeah! If we have to shut down and catch a breather, the least we could do is deaden the blow, so to speak."

Joy blinked, then smiled, then gave Disgust the notepaper back. "I have an idea already!" he declared, then skipped over to the drawer full of lightbulbs. After some rummaging, he discovered the proper one. "Here!" he said, "This is sure to work out! It'll be fun, and it will surely make it easier on everyone when we have to deliver the bad news!"

As he explained the idea, grins spread infectiously around the group, and all agreed that it was a perfect solution. And so, Joy popped in the bulb and Disgust smiled approvingly.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, Steveles sat up and - while he didn't smile - he had the most wonderful idea.

Lately, he'd been scrambled. He had Christmas things to do with his family, he had projects that needed ending before the year itself ended, and there was a fresh plethora of responsibilities he'd take on if he allowed his ambition to override his common sense. Among these things was the overwhelming amount of fanfiction he'd tried churning out in the past few weeks. Quite frankly, he couldn't do it.

He needed a break.

He needed to sit down, reevaluate things, and get a rest from all the writing, or else his quality would suffer for it, he knew that much. He should've had a buffer set up by this point: get all the material written for the "12 Days of Mind-mas" (as one fanfic reviewer had put it) ahead of time, so he could enjoy his Christmas break with his family. But it wasn't to be; life decided to throw him many sudden changes, and - in the ensuing busyness - he failed to type up all the chapters in advance.

 _'But,'_ he thought as he went downstairs, carrying his laptop to a small corner where he could quietly write this out by himself _, 'The least I could do for my readers is be creative when I tell them that I need to take a break.'_

And what better way to do that than with a chapter in his guessing game? It was - in his opinion - a fairly good idea.

* * *

 _Alright! So... yeah. I need a break, guys. I'm so sorry, but it's true: my writing quality will start going down in these stories, and it's all thanks to how thin I'm spreading myself, here. I'll update my other stories with a notice, too, but for the "Whose Mind is it Anyway?" readership, I wanted to especially make an apology for this break. I just can't do it. I wanted to do something special for you guys for Christmas, but I wasn't able to get the material cranked out in time (and have it meet my standards)! Hopefully you understand. I just need a break is all. Come January or February, I'll get back on track with one update a week, but - for now - a hiatus is in order for my writing skills to get the rest they need._

 _As for the hints... heh, I can't believe I'm listing them, but here goes (there aren't very many)..._

 _1\. The console was obviously a writer's, one like a giant keyboard. So this is someone who spends a lot of time on a computer._

 _2\. I said it was from Real Life at the start._

 _3\. Those of you who read my review/fanfic, "An Inside Look at Inside Out" should note that these emotions behaved exactly like mine in that one, and they were the same gender, and dressed the same._

 _4\. Another clue that would come from that other fanfic of mine was the mental note Disgust handed to Joy. In "An Inside Look..." I gave my Disgust "mental notes" that he used throughout. The pun was there, and I couldn't resist it._

 _So, there ya go. I'm sorry, I really really am, but - as I said - I needed this break, and life just happened, as it is wont to do._

 _I hope you understand, guys. Furthermore, I hope you have a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! See you whenever I get back in the groove of things._


	20. A Common Occurrence

**Temporary A/N: I have returned! Bwahahahahah!**

 **Regarding the elephant in the room; _when_ am I going to resume updating this at a steady pace? As it stands currently, I plan to update it every Friday for a month or two before taking another break. I feel that that works best for this fanfic, as it allows me breathing room and time to get a buffer up and running. Once this one's done with its update spree, I'll switch gears and resume updating my _other_ thematic vignette-centered fanfic, "The Gallery" (which has a limited amount of chapters, thankfully, so we'll not have any of this "when will it end or not?" suspense - once it's done, it'll be obvious, and I'm certain it will be done with the next series of updates I bring it). My third fanfic, "And Upside Down" will take a lot more planning and prepping, as it's the one that will be the most demanding (but most rewarding)!**

 **So, to make it all nice and brief:**

 **1\. This fanfic will be updated every Friday for a month or two.**

 **2\. Then I will stop that and switch to updating "The Gallery" every Friday for however long it takes to end it.**

 **3\. Then I'll go back to updating this fanfic every Friday for another update spree.**

 **4\. All during that time, I'll be meticulously planning and prepping "And Upside Down," and _that_ fanfic's update schedule is yet to be determined, but I can promise you it will not affect the schedule of "Whose Mind?" or "The Gallery."**

 **Alright, thanks for your patience and for reading the update notification. NOW, let's get on with the show!**

* * *

 _T_ _his one's from an animated movie..._

* * *

"Look out!" Fear cried. He flung himself at the console, and slammed into its glossy surface with all the force of a shrimp; just enough to get their host to cry out, not enough to get them to avoid the impact as they ran face-first into another person. They spun out, each going another direction, and soon enough they were recovering from the collision, rubbing their aching face. As Joy and Anger helped their skinny purple friend off the console, Sadness went up to it. His eyes were scrunched into another of his signature grimaces, concern riding his features. "Poor guy..."

"Nah, I'm alright," Fear began, but then noticed his blue brother wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was looking up at the monitor's rippling, shifting surface, with shafts of light striking the floor in front. The guy they'd run into was slowly coming back to his senses. The ocean-blue wave of sympathy coursed through the console's many rocky buttons, and their host darted over to the one they'd run into, apologizing ceaselessly for the impact. However, he wasn't listening. Instead he stood up, panicked, looking left and right, muttering and mumbling about something he'd lost.

Joy, who had been squinting curiously up to that point (as had everyone) suddenly brightened up. "Ooh! I think we can help!" she declared, pressing a few buttons. Just after that, she darted over to a pile of orbs resting around the Mind's Eye, deposited in a jumbled mess of a heap. "No... No... Hah! Here!" She picked up a particular one, its contents resting in a purple haze. Humming, she shot over to the room's center, and replayed the memory for their host (who quickly put two and two together to realize how they could be of assistance). So it was that they found themselves journeying happily along, acting as a guide to the guy they'd literally run into.

Minutes went by without event, Joy up at the front.

As she merrily hummed along, nobody else was needed. Anger was preoccupied with looking out the window, contemplating something. Disgust and Sadness discussed the recall tube and when they could get a Mind Worker in for maintenance. Fear stayed by the pile of orbs made from earlier that day; a few stops for food, some travelling, another stop, some more travelling... funnily enough, he couldn't seem to find the memory from breakfast. He rubbed his chin, then went through the pile, but not a single image from the morning could be found among the grey orbs.

"Oh, come on!" he hissed, scrambling through the pile once more.

"What's up?" Joy asked as she flicked a switch.

"Oh, it's just - I can't remember what that one stuff we had for breakfast was... I mean, I wanna be sure we're not starving or anything, so I'm looking for the orb, but-"

"Oh come on!" Anger cried, noting the pile, "Is it already started?!"

"Afraid so," Fear conceded with a sigh.

"Aww man," Sadness mumbled, "Now we won't know if we did anything horribly embarrassing this morning or not..."

"Please don't say that!" Disgust hissed.

"Too late," Fear said with a futile gesture to the pile. One by one, the memories dissolved like powder in water, and their dusty remains floated off.

Joy remained fixated on the sight for a bit, frowning. Then she shrugged, and returned to her duties at the console. It couldn't be helped, of course. No use complaining about it if it couldn't be changed. As they kept moving along, Joy did a double take. They weren't alone! Someone new was there, following!

"H-Hey, Fear! F-F-Fear!"

His purple eyes latched to the screen. In an instant, he was there, and flicked a button. "Just ignore them, and they'll go away, and we can continue on with what we were doing... no worries... nope... none at all..."

A few seconds passed.

"They're not leaving!" Anger snapped. "Make them go!"

Fear squeaked, then shoved a lever. Their host took turn after turn after turn, but every time they glanced back, there was the stalker, getting closer. On the brink of screaming, Fear was only stopped by Anger's bulky red form shoving him aside. "That's it! Do they wanna tussle, huh?! Is that it?!"

Rage boiled across the console, and they spun right around, shoving back the stranger, demanding that they stop right away. In so many words, Anger told them to move on, find another road, and get lost. He was fired up, really exploding into another of his favorite rants, when suddenly the stranger interrupted, snapping back and putting them in their place: they were _supposed_ to be following! They had an agreement.

Anger shut up. Fear whimpered, Joy slapped her face, Sadness sniffed, and Disgust looked like he could die of embarrassment.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a very, very confused and upset clown fish named Marlin was saying, "Wait a minute! What is _going on?_ You _already_ told me which way the boat was going!"

Dory, whom he had just run into, looked stunned. "I did?" she asked, as comprehension slowly drew itself across her features. "Oh no..."

Marlin was still enraged. "If this is some kind of practical joke, it's not funny! And I know 'funny' - I'm a clown fish!"

The other adopted an apologetic tone. "No, no, it's not. I know it's not - I'm so sorry! See, I... I suffer from 'Short Term Memory Loss.'"

Something between surprise and disbelief hit Marlin in the face. "'Short Term Memory Loss?'" he said sarcastically.

Not picking up in the least, Dory nodded with a big grin.

The other spun around and began swimming away. "I don't believe this!"

"No, it's true!" Dory insisted, catching up, "I forget things almost instantly - it runs in my family... Well..." A puzzled look. "Well, at least I think it does... uh... hmm." Her eyes darted around, taking note of the vast, empty sea around her for the first time it seemed. "Where are they?" Lost in thought, her half-track mind wound its way through what memory she had, attempting to remember her family... or something about them... or... or...

Hey, who was this orange fellow looking so confused?

"Can I help you?" she offered with a pleasant smile.

* * *

 _Alright, so... Dory! Someone suggested this a while back, and I loved the idea of exploring her mind, so there ya go. I thought it would be fun. It turned out to be challenging as well - not only did I have to provide hints, but I also wanted to refrain from making it too explicit, otherwise it'd be easy to guess. Dory's a unique character, after all - she's a fish who has short term memory loss. I'm fairly certain she's the only character in the whole history of fiction who could currently claim that as an accurate summary of themselves._

 _Now, for the all-important hints!_

 _1\. I failed to mention anything about arms or legs. I know that's not much of a hint, and I doubt many of you picked up on it due to its subtle nature. Nonetheless, you'll notice there's no mention of those appendages, and there's no mention of "running" or "walking" anywhere._

 _2\. In terms of aesthetics, I have written the monitor as looking like the surface of a body of water, if you were underneath it looking up. I think it made sense, and looked cool, so there ya go._

 _3\. The console was described as having a "glossy surface" with "rocky buttons." I didn't want to explicitly say "coral," of course, 'cause that - in my opinion - would be too big of a hint. A glossy surface mixed with rocky buttons should give of a ocean-ish vibe; smooth water mixed with hard surfaces underneath. It's not a crystal-clear hint, of course, but there it is._

 _4\. The biggest one was the way I handled short term memory. I was concerned with how I'd do it, because - even if Dory forgets - does that mean her emotions forget? Well, they have to forget these things as well, otherwise they wouldn't have her react the way she does with things. So, I had the orbs disappear, like in the Memory Dump but up in HQ instead, and somehow that affects the air (or, rather, the water) in HQ, and the emotions forget as well. Also, there was a throwaway line about the recall tube needing maintenance. That was something hinting at an issue as well._

 _5\. Lastly, the order of events is - as usual - mirroring the scene from the film: Dory runs into Marlin. She apologizes. She notices he's panicked. She realizes she can help. She starts guiding him, then forgets, etc. Please note that I didn't say they were looking for a boat specifically (or Marlin's son) because - again - the hint would simply be too big._


	21. Loneliness is Such a Fitting Word

_This one's from a movie..._

* * *

It was a unique mind, and - like most others - reflective of the environment of its owner. HQ, especially.

It stood surrounded by a handful of Personality Islands, each feeling isolated though they clearly weren't (the slim connection to HQ was ever present). Loneliness was a fitting word. In headquarters, each of the five little creatures who called it home felt alone - all they had was the company of each other amid a conglomeration of nurnies and greebles; an intricate cubic city. The metal jungle jutted out from walls around, conceding space only when necessary to the shelves (whose assorted memories rested in clusters that looked disorganized to the uninformed) windows (whose sand-stained surfaces glanced out at the Islands) and the console.

Currently, the five residents of this flat were seated there, at their respective chairs.

Here was Disgust, a bookend to the collection. Growing up poor, her host had no need to dress up (nor could even if it were so desired). Still, she made do whenever possible; a lick of spit to remove some dirt, a miraculously unused comb (which broke days after it was found), some fresh robes... they made do. It was alright. Besides, in this wasteland, one couldn't be picky (not that there was much to be picky about - a desert is a desert after all; she would press buttons if she ever needed to, but hardly anything good _or_ bad occured out here). Currently, the green girl was wiping some sand off her headgear.

Opposite her, her purple twig of a sister held a nervous smile as she clasped her bandaged hands together. On a day to day basis, she was needed often. Life here was far from easy, and knowing when danger was approaching was a must. Danger took many forms, of course - angering others, dehydration, ticking someone off, dehydration, not getting paid for the day (usually by making a higher-up mad), starvation, and dehydration.

They were currently doing fine in that department, though, Joy happily noted as the big screen in front turned to a view of their haul today. Joy was second in command around here, always quick to laugh at the little things in life (and it _had_ to be little things, of course; nothing big ever happened), and snatch what few happy moments could be found. For instance, today was a good day, as they'd found quite a bit of success on their job. Which was good for everyone, but especially their leader.

 _'This,'_ Joy thought, _'Certainly means another night with a full belly.'_ Her only brother, Sadness, frequently found himself needed late into the night, when stomachaches panged their gut thanks in no small part to a shot economy(economy? Heh, that's putting it generously) and meager income. Not to mention the loneliness, of course - the crippling, constant loneliness that seemed to be everywhere. Above and below and in the air around, like an unsung note flowing all over. Loneliness. Isolation. Their unwelcome, unseen friend who was never gone. It wasn't hard to imagine why Sadness was the one who called the shots around here, his blue hue outnumbering the others ever so slightly. It was the loneliness that their home infected them with.

But nobody thought of that as they walked up to collect their day's pay, especially since said pay was even smaller than yesterday.

"Wait, what?!" Anger spat, adjusting her cloak, "Did I hear that right?"

Their employer was full of greed, and they all knew it. Some days, he just felt like holding back on their fair wages. Today was one of those days, and it took amazing self restraint for Anger not to grab the nearest metal pole and start smashing it across the console.

As it was, Sadness intervened. "Look, let's just take what we can get and go. It's not like he'll let us have a raise, anyways."

"Y-Yeah!" Joy piped in, "And besides, we're not gonna starve to death, are we?"

Anger gritted her teeth.

Reading temptation in her eyes - specifically, the temptation to verbally rip their superior apart, Fear jumped in. "N-No, Anger, let's not! L-Let's just go home. It'll be night soon, anyways."

"Yeah," Disgust added with a scoff at the monitor, "Don't give him the satisfaction of knowing he's still got his fat thumb over us."

The red emotion sighed, and slouched. Not a word was said.

"Okay..." Sadness muttered, "Let's just head home."

All agreed (even if Anger agreed by not disagreeing), and they made the long trek back to the ramshackle place that could loosely be called a dwelling. Comfortable? Nope. Near others? Not a chance. Safe, though? Yes. At least there was that. Safe from the elements, safe from bandits (their home didn't exactly pose the most attractive of prospects), and safe from most anything else.

Again, nothing much good or bad happened here. The emotions were reminded of that little fact each day as they looked up to the night sky, and its cold silence told them they were isolated, and alone, and without much hope of ever changing that.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a solitary figure went back to her home (for lack of a better word).

Her name was Rey. Her home was a overturned walker, a relic from the ancient days of the Empire. A footprint, reminding her once again of just how alone she was; not even a big, all-encompassing Empire (or, rather, its offspring, the First Order) cared enough to reach across space and snatch Jakku back. Nah, nobody came here. Nobody cared. And she knew that she'd do well to not care, too. It didn't stop her from caring, mind you, but it reminded her to at least try.

So, just like any day before, she came home and made her meal for the day. She went to her wall. She scratched another tally in a veritable army of marks. All of them stared out at her impassively. They were staunch reminders of just how long she'd been alone; longer than she'd been counting. Longer than she'd ever count. Heck, when this wall ran out of room (and it would), would she still be able to understand just how alone she was, or would she finally feel numb to it all?

 _'Forget it,'_ she thought, _'Eat your food and quit letting your mind wander.'_

She did just that. She grabbed her measly portion (or - rather - her _"quahter pohrsh'n"_ as that fat lard pile would say) and sat outside to leave the loneliness behind, if only for a moment.

She didn't realize it would leave her very, _very_ soon.

* * *

 _Don't you worry - I did not spoil Star Wars Episode VII, okay? This is stuff that's going down at the start of the movie, and I was careful to avoid giving away details that would become key plot elements - my rule is, "If it isn't shown until after the second act starts, it's probably a spoiler, so don't get into it unless even the trailers show it."_

 _Besides, I'm not going for emotional moments, I'm going for interesting minds, and I like Rey's. Seriously, say what you want, but - for my money - the new Star Wars movie rocks, and the characters they created were complex and well-written. My hat's off to the writers._

 _I'm not here to gush, though. I'm here to show you the main hints. So let's get to it, right?_

 _1\. The crippling loneliness. If you've seen the movie, you don't need to get past her introductory scene to know Rey is a lonely, lonely girl (livin' in a lonely world (but there aren't any midnight trains (because this is Jakku, not South Detroit) I apologize for nothing) I shouldn't write the clue section when I'm this sleep deprived; it's irresponsible)._

 _2\. The desert hints. Sand stained windows, mentioning that there's a desert, frequently noting the lack of civilization and water being a concern. Yep. Desert. Jakku._

 _3\. The attire the emotions wear - so far as their clothes are mentioned - match Rey's. Robes (or cloaks), and head gear (goggles - I didn't want to specifically say goggles, 'cause that would be giving too much of a hint in my opinion)._

 _4\. You hopefully didn't fail to notice the sci-fi aesthetics in the room, especailly nurnies and greebles (such odd words would surely warrant looking them up - I know I needed to). For those of you out of the loop, just use Google images, it's hard to explain them other than saying they're immediately associated with science fiction and Star Wars._

 _5\. I described her trying to pawn of scrap to the fat guy whose name I've forgotten but who is obviously a pretty big jerk. She leaves dejected after receiving only one quarter portion for her troubles of the day._

 _6\. I tried to capture her personality, and - really - Rey strikes me as a mostly happy person whose situation just happens to be miserable. And she's also very quick to anger in the right circumstances. Hence the order of "command" here: Sadness is first, then Joy, then Anger, followed by Fear, and Disgust._


	22. Premonition

**WARNING**

 **At the risk of giving too much of a hint, those of you who don't like blood and violence, be informed; a paragraph near the end of this chapter is one of the reasons this fanfic is rated teen.**

 _(also, I'm updating this fanfic every Friday at midnight, UTC - I figure as the world standard time zone, it will be a good calculator for determining when exactly I can post updates and still consider it Friday/not let readers in other time zones freak out. It also gives me a nice buffer if a chapter's delayed - I can wait 'till it's actually Friday for me, and still be in the clear. Therefore, midnight UTC is when I do this when it literally becomes Friday going by the global standard time. But that's neither here nor there! Onto this entry in the series!)_

* * *

 _This one's from a webcomic..._

* * *

Not much affected the emotions. This isn't to say they didn't react to situations, nor that they didn't touch the console's metallic surface. Rather, hardly anything could be done to change the _way_ that they reacted to events happening around them. Even Disgust consistently manned the console whenever they boarded a ship, the waves rocking their boat and causing quite the upset stomach.

But, really, even though he was their leader, he didn't get much more input than the others, and that input was sparse enough in the first place: it was safe to say that not much affected the emotions. Even as they traveled across a dangerous land in a train (a new sight to them, to be sure) with a bloody history, going on a near-literal suicide mission, the most noted difference would be a handful of extra purple memories, maybe.

Ennui was hanging on each of the five faces while their host hopped up into a nearby bunk.

"Hmm," Sadness commented, rubbing his eye, "This'll be boring."

"Yeah," Anger agreed.

And there was more silence as they observed their recently-introduced colleague. He hopped up in the bunk in front of them, readying his pillow and looking quite ready for sleep after a day of traveling.

Which, of course, still wasn't over as a night of traveling crept in.

"I think-" Joy began.

The entire train shook and Fear reacted instantly. Her posture, her expression, everything changed from the listless nothing previously on her face to suddenly wide eyes and flaring nostrils. A purple memory popped in, and they all intently watched the monitor, anticipating.

Their acquaintance gestured and spoke to one of the trains' staff. The former seemed agitated, the latter annoyed, but the emotions couldn't follow anything that was being said. Anger grumbled about "stupid foreign languages," but made no move to do anything. It wasn't too much of a bother, as people spoke with more than just their mouths; while the conversation continued, the lack of alarm on the staff member's face showed the emotions one thing for sure: there was no need to panic. He also showed them another thing, an angry finger pointed at the "fasten seatbelts" sign.

"Ah," Fear said, her eyes returning to their dull state, "So, we need the seatbelts on."

"And obviously that jolting is normal on this vehicle," Joy suggested, "Or else the staff would be panicking."

Her red friend sighed. "Great. Fantastic."

"Well, no use arguing," Sadness said, brushing some hair out of his face, "I don't want to get the crew guy upset with us."

"Yeah, you've got a point," Disgust conceded.

As Joy went about trying to get their host to put the seatbelt on, she quickly found that it was a tightening, constricting thing. Sleeping out in the forest without a bed would be more comfortable. That was no exaggeration, either - they knew from experience.

And so Sadness noted how much the black fabric itched and dug into their skin. Fear almost suggested keeping it on, but Disgust and Anger would have none of it. They threw off the obstructive device, preferring to sleep on their bunk without it. Their acquaintance muttered something foreign, but the general gist of his tone told them that he concurred with their assessment of the seatbelts: too much to bother with.

He spoke a series of words that they couldn't even understand, but the emotions paid attention intently, taking it in as they would anything else, with their signature silent apathy. But a single phrase stood out, one that sounded like a "good night" of some kind.

Joy's mouth flickered what might've been a smile, and they - too - bid their newly met companion a good night, with a pat on the head. Then they promptly slumped over onto the pillow they'd fluffed, and tried sleeping.

The night wore on.

And while their host's body remained safe and sound, in the bunk of that train car, the mind stretched out. This wasn't a physical change in HQ's environment, you understand. In fact, it would almost be considered a dream - the monitor shut down, the memories went away, all signs pointed to sleep. But they were certainly not experiencing a dream. Though asleep, their dreams don't usually involve all five emotions remaining at the console, nor do they involve...

Well, whatever _that_ was up on the screen.

 _In the back, a faint banging sound._

Fear, hands trembling, forced her face to stay rigid, but it was clear that she felt petrified by the sight as she went about her duties at the control panel. "I-It's close, isn't it?" The others nodded silently, each displaying their own variant of horror. "Great gods..." Fear hissed, "This isn't good."

 _Bang._

"No, really?" Anger snapped.

"We gotta wake up, now!" Fear insisted.

"Wait, wait, hang on," interjected Disgust, "We can, but not now - not until we get more... of an idea... of..." His voice silently faded out. The others' eyes widened. Fear felt a presence closing in on them. HQ didn't feel safe. Nowhere in this mind did, as a presence invaded, but didn't quite make it in. It was a suffocating feeling, one of pain, and rage. Anger trembled, knees weak. Fear alone pushed through the unseen, stifling wave of feeling that attacked their sleep.

 _Bang!_

She made it to the console. She slammed down on a button, hard. They woke up.

The monitor jerked back awake, there was a brief dizzy sensation as their mind resolved itself to a normal state, and then they saw the pillow in their face, and heard another loud "Bang!" as the train's intrusive noises continued on.

"Okay," Fear sighed, getting ahold of herself, "Okay... okay, it's gone."

"Gods," Sadness shuddered, "The pain..."

"That one was pretty bad," Disgust admitted, "We have to be alert."

"What are you implying?" Anger challenged. Behind her staunch attitude, she felt horrified.

"That whatever that was, it's close. And we're in an enclosed space."

Fear and the others let it sink in.

"Stay sharp," Disgust said as he attended the console once more.

Rolling over, they came face to face with their coworker, in the bunk beside them. He was just as they'd left him, wide awake and smiling, hiding whatever anxiety he may be feeling. They could tell he was frightened, too. The difference between the two, however, was the ability to manage emotions. His Fear was likely being kept in check only by his Joy trying to maintain a positive facade. Their Fear, on the other hand, was fine. She kept her hands off the console (yet on standby), aware that the mind needed to focus, listen, and wait. Take in their surroundings. Pay attention as the train traveled on. And hope that whatever was coming, they were ready for it.

But their foreign friend wasn't helping much. A stream of noise came out of his mouth, smiling and chatting away quietly. Joy and even Anger chuckled but did nothing. "Doesn't he get that we don't understand a single word he's saying?" the red one asked.

Their acquaintance patted his own pillow, and said a word, then.

The emotions looked intently but said nothing. What was he trying to tell them?

He repeated the gesture and word, and to still no effect.

Sadness furrowed his brows in a confused grimace.

More insistent, their acquaintance stretched out his hands suddenly and forced their head into their pillow once more.

"Ah, come on!" Disgust hissed, "Right where we were drooling! Really?"

"What's the idiot think he's doing?!" Anger howled.

"He's telling us we need to sleep?" Joy offered.

"Could've found a better way to do it!"

Anger flicked a lever, and their host glared over at the foreigner in annoyance.

Just then, though, Fear jolted up in her chair. "Guys, wait! Stop!"

A pause hit the air. They all intently froze. It was like an echo from the dream, a suffocating feeling pressing on them mentally. Screaming, anguish, rage. Hate. Hunger.

It was coming.

"That's your cue!" Anger said, moving back from the console.

Fear jumped in with an oath, acting on pure training and instinct. They seized their acquaintance's hand and forced him to grab his seatbelt. That done, they tended to their own, tightening it as they dared while their companion stared in puzzlement.

 _Kra-Trongg!_

An awful noise as the train tipped (yes, _tipped_ ) a little before slamming back down onto the tracks. Metal screamed in agony while it was blunted over and over again. "It's on the roof," Fear hissed under her breath, keeping the levers tight and holding as if for dear life, "It's on the roof, it's on the roof, it's on the roof!" They stayed frozen, waiting until the awful shaking stopped. But it didn't. It only grew louder and louder.

Disgust didn't do a thing but grab his spindly hair, gritting his teeth while the overpowering sensation flooded HQ once more. Joy and Sadness collapsed embracing each other, eyes wide. Anger and Fear alone stood standing, though not without tremendous effort. Up on the monitor, their host noted that the crew members were acting surprisingly nonchalant for an attack of this size. No panicking, no sudden orders. Just sever looks as they tried toning down the panic that was hitting other passengers. It was almost as if...

They didn't know. Anger blinked once, then looked at her sister, then screamed, "Go! The idiots don't realize! Go, go! Warn them!"

Fear slapped herself, then pressed buttons. Their host's face remained stoic, expressionless, but focused. He lept from his bunk and darted right down the length of the car, into the crew compartment, where the train's captain was on a radio, trying to contact someone. She didn't look too happy to see a passenger standing behind her.

The emotions paid no heed.

"It's there!" Fear pointed as they looked up at the train's ceiling, "Right above us! Right there!"

She shunted a lever forward and backward and forward and backward, Anger joining her as they strained to get the attention of the captain, who slowly started realizing that they weren't pointing up at the ceiling just for kicks and giggles. Eyebrows arched slightly downward, face stern, they communicated quite nicely without words.

The captain's eyes widened as she realized the significance.

"Thank you!" Anger shouted.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, the Finnish mage known as Lalli Hotakainen stayed standing silently pointing at the ceiling, where the train's metallic roof was crumpling, groaning, ready to give. Snapping out of the shock, the captain darted back to her troops, drawing out her sidearm. "Breach!" she cried back, "Breach in sector three!"

The guards moved in, other crew members distributed masks to those non-immune passengers, and a small force assembled beneath the source of the noise.

Then another passenger, Emil (who had caused some other disruptions), darted into the room.

"You again?!" the captain shouted. This was the last place she needed unarmed baggage, "Do you _not_ understand what is going on!?"

The youth quickly replied, "Yes, I do, and I'm very sorry but I don't think my friend here understands, and I'm just going to take him with me and not get in the way anymore after that and I am _truly_ sorry!" But he didn't stop running towards Lalli, who had done nothing while the panic escalated. He seized the Fin by his shoulder, and - in spite of the language barrier, hissed at him, "Lalli, come _on!_ We can't be here!"

A guard moved beside them, shielding the two with his bulky body as they all opened fire at the ceiling, a reverse hailstorm of metal bullets pounding into it. Lalli and Emil craned their heads to catch a glimpse of what was happening, but couldn't quite see past the soldier's bulky coat.

But that wasn't a concern for long.

A contorted column of flesh and organs broke through the ceiling with a roar and a gushing sound. It didn't collapse or fall apart. No, it stayed together, the assorted mass of former humans now fused together, forever, in agony. Amid the writhing appendages, diseased liquid spurted out with each bullet impact. The rest of the monstrosity was outside the train, trying to force its way in. All the while, the guards stood their ground, firing bullet after bullet into the nightmare. It writhed, twitched, and flung its rippling mass around the cabin, searching for prey, heedless of the protesting cries coming from some of its mouths.

And Emil and Lalli reverted to a childlike state, holding each other instinctively as their faces locked onto the sight. For a moment, both wore the same expression: utter terror - that of a kid frightened by nighttime noises. Only these noises were real, as were the monstrous limbs flying around them. They both remembered common sense, and what it had previously taught them to do.

Stand still.

Stay silent.

* * *

 _I warned you. This was a very violent chapter at the end, what with the whole "mutated monstrosity full of former humans fused together due to some pandemic that wiped out almost all of humanity 90 years ago."_

 _For those who aren't picking up on it, the character was "Lalli," from the webcomic that is made of equal parts friendship and horror, "Stand Still Stay Silent." This scene exemplifies the comic completely; you have Lalli and Emil becoming fast friends through an event that wouldn't be out of place in most horror movies. Is it odd that I actually chose my least favorite character for the chapter? I guess, in a way, it is odd, but - then again - his mind is interesting, and it made for a good guessing game (one which, at the very least, kept you guessing)._

 _In past chapters, I've written guessing games that were way too easy. Well, here's to hoping I didn't turn around and write something far too hard for this one. Nonetheless, the hints are:_

 _1\. The emotions are usually stoic unless something_ very _serious is happening. If you read the comic, you'd know that Lalli is a very stoic individual. Hardly any emotion ever crosses his face (apart from mild annoyance). Which, of course, means that when he's scared, you should be, too._

 _2\. Mentioning that he was seasick. This isn't very complicated, of course - Lalli gets seasick. So I mentioned it. What more do you want me to say?_

 _3\. As per usual, events follow the storyline of the source material._

 _4\. The prevalent language barrier was, in my opinion, the biggest hint, next to..._

 _5\. The vision he had in his sleep. I wasn't sure how his mind would represent this, but just before the monster attacked the train, Lalli experienced a vision in his sleep of something... well, scary. I don't know quite how to put it without spoiling the scene for those of you who haven't read that part, so I'll simply say that, if you read this part of the webcomic, you'd understand what I'm referring to. I tried capturing his apprehension and horror, and the body language at that part signified - to me - that he was going through some mental pain when he had the dream._


	23. A Serpent Stung Me

**Well, after that super lengthy one from last time, I can only apologize for how short _this_ one is. I didn't want it to be too easy; so the length was trimmed. You've been warned.**

 _This one's from a movie inspired by a play..._

* * *

Turmoil and panic enveloped the mind in an avalanche. Fear had the helm, her hands pressed in on the two stone-and-wood buttons as far as could be pushed, while the cave-like opening of the Mind's Eye showed a scene of equal chaos.

Dust and panic exploded. Fear pressed further, and screamed. Her siblings did their best to offer words of encouragement (or, rather, Joy did), but it fell on deaf ears. "Where is he?" Fear shouted, "Where did he go?!"

"Calm down, now, sis, calm down!" Anger snarled, "Freaking out's not gonna get us anywh-"

"Look!" Joy said, relief riding her voice, "He's safe! We're safe! The family is safe, okay?"

Sure enough, the one who they were panicked about seemed to be reaching safety nearby, away from the ruinous tragedy unfolding before them.

"Oh, thank goodness," Joy sighed. Fear, too, felt relief, though was still aware of the disaster nearby, and knew better than to release the controls too much. Instead, he moved slightly across the tiny console, allowing Joy room to punch in some golden orbs (which collected on the Short-Term Memory mounds nearby, next to purple, and blue, and even red ones - the past few minutes had been trying, to say the least). "All's well that ends-"

Joy was interrupted by her blue brother's screaming. Tears blew up across his face. Joy yanked her head to the screen. Disgust and Anger went slack jawed and Fear shoved to the controls once more. "No," he muttered, "No, no, no, no! No! _No!_ "

Safety was just in their grasp, only for fate to yank it away as easily as it yanked the life from their leader. The dust settled, and they ran straight to his side. The only sound outside was the wind. The only one inside was Sadness's gasping, shuddering sobs as they broke over the rocky cavern they called home.

Fear slapped herself, and shoved Sadness aside. "We gotta get help!"

"It's too late," Sadness said.

"You shut up! We gotta hurry, we-"

"Fear, p-please, don't make it worse-"

"I said shut up! Don't tell me it's too late!"

Someone called their name. They turned as the figure approached, horror riding his features. He tried offering what comfort he could provide, tried soothing him, but it was no use... they both knew what would happen momentarily. After every disaster, every battle, every single upset... someone had to be blamed, and the two of them knew - accident or not - who would feel the vengeful brunt of those around them. It was silent outside now, but in a few hours, it would be filled with an angry mob. Hundreds, thousands of them, all after retribution for their fallen brother.

"W-What... What are we gonna do now?" Fear asked.

As if in response, their sole companion looked them in the eye, that horror still lingering. Then he told them to flee. Before the storm comes, before the anger and hate pours out... flee while there was still time.

Fear didn't need to be told twice, and fought with Sadness over the controls.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a solitary, scared, mournful lion cub darted away from the carnage, his mind in turmoil.

As Simba ran off to escape his imagined persecution, his uncle Scar gave orders to his cronies as they approached. "Kill him," he said, not an ounce of regret in his voice.

* * *

 _Sorry, guys. This one was short because I wanted to make a difficult one, and that means not giving many hints, and ensuring that the hints I gave were vague. If that's the case, then I don't want to drag the scene on for very long, at risk of it becoming boring instead of engaging. I tried this a couple of times, and - without a doubt - this version of the entry is exactly how long it needed to be; short. The Lion King is so iconic that - were I to make this longer - I ran the risk of it being too easy... again._

 _So, hints!_

 _1\. The architecture is all unrefined; wood, stone, dirt mounds - indicative of the setting._

 _2\. Do I even need to point out that the string of events was supposed to go along with what happened in the source material? I think it's obvious at this point - that's what I do in every story._

 _3\. The Mind's Eye is a cave, like a lion's den (though calling it a den would've been too big of a hint)._

 _4\. I didn't want to give too many hints, so you can be sure that I was careful to avoid specific nouns, such as "father" or "uncle," instead opting for "leader" (for Mufasa) and not even giving Scar's relation to Simba. The less details, the better the guessing game._

 _Nonetheless, in spite of my pointed effort to make this entry a step up in difficulty (not because of not-well-known source material, but - rather - because the game itself was intentionally higher in difficulty), I'm sure many of you will get it, and I'll feel slightly annoyed, then resolve to make it a challenge next time, only for it to wind up being easy again, heh. It's the circle of life, after all!_

 _I'm so sorry for that joke. That was- that was pretty dumb._

 _Oh, one last thing - the play in question (that I said at the start inspired "The Lion King") is "Hamlet," and - in fact - the title of this chapter serves as another hint to that; a line from the play regarding Hamlet's father's death._


	24. Lucky and Unlucky All At Once

_This one's from a movie based on a book..._

* * *

The emotions stood as their host did; stiff-backed and lifeless, staring blankly ahead. With tightened jaws and heavy eyes, they looked through the occasional static cracking across the screen before them. They were statues of defeat. Victory had been close, so close they could swear it had a taste. But a moment cruelly snatched it away, robbing them. So they stood still, staring at the sight before them. Only biting wind and metal gates were keeping them apart from their desire, but that didn't make a scrap of difference when their hopes had been so well and thoroughly crushed.

It was Sadness's job to act right now, and she knew it. Everyone knew it. Even their host knew that tears should've been coming, but in that splintery room and at that tattered console, the blue emotion didn't do a thing. She - like the others - stared, the numbness still resonating these long minutes after finding out that they had lost, once more.

Joy dusted off her frayed dress (and mentally noted that she'd need to get a new patch on it soon, where threads were starting to show), and cleared her throat.

"I... I'm s-sorry," she mumbled, "For getting our hopes up... for getting us too excited again."

Nobody said a word in reply. The only flicker of a response was a glance from Disgust, and he - too - said nothing.

In the passing minutes, two random people walked by on-screen, just in earshot. They were talking about what everyone was talking about; the upset that had cost so much. Unbeknownst to them, their words crossed the air and hit the emotions painfully, searing and twisting. Not that they had any doubt before, but these final oblivious shots came as a blow, cementing defeat. They gave new life to Sadness, however; the little blue thing straightened up, her back stiff as the emotions flinched at the words they heard. Confirmation of defeat, and confirmation that their lives were destined to always be miserable.

Sadness went to the controls, and was no sooner there than Anger. The two tried working together on the small console, straining and contorting and constantly bumping into each other. Memories popped in; Anger, Sadness, Anger, Sadness, Anger _and_ Sadness, and Sadness and Anger. Over and over they went, like morse code frantically spelling something out. The meaning was - of course - clear to everyone. Their host just kept walking, an automation of barely-restrained rage. Tears cracked at the eyes, above tightened lips. Fists clenched, the host kept walking. And walking. And walking.

Had it not been for their host's downcast eyes watching as their feet pounded the sidewalk, none of them would have noticed their sudden change of luck.

"Stop!" Joy shouted, flinging into the console and slamming a button.

Anger made a move to snap at his sibling, but then checked himself as he - too - looked to the screen.

"Joy..." Fear cautioned from the back, "J-Joy, don't get our hopes up again..."

Joy's smile was glowing. Fear ran up to her and shook her shoulder once, dislodging her gaze from the screen (if only momentarily).

"Don't," she said as she let her purple hand fall back down, "Just don't get our hopes up too high... you _know_ we already lost! You _know_ we have no chance of-"

Joy shoved a light in.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, the ten dollar bill stuck out of the snow like a godsend, a light in a dark night, and two hands in tattered gloves reached for it.

Charlie Bucket smoothed out the wrinkles on the paper, staring at the money with unbelievable hope. Hope that had no reason, sure (the last winner had just been announced; some foreign prince or other), but that was no concern to the mind of a child. He could not stop the smile from crinkling across his mouth. He ignored the doubt in the back of his head, and stood up. There was a candy store nearby, certainly. And he was going to try one more time. Heck, even if he didn't win a golden ticket, he wasn't going to mope about it. He was going to go to that shop, walk in, and buy a Wonka bar to help warm his spirits on a cold Winter day.

* * *

 _Charlie Bucket. Yeah, yeah, yeah, let the hate for Tim Burton's film begin. I liked it (better than the old version, in fact), and I really really liked Charlie's character in the film. In a story about good kids vs. brats, you need your protagonist to stand out as one of the former. The film did a great job, and I won't change my opinion of either movie._

 _But enough of that! What were the clues?_

 _1\. The tattered state of HQ reflected where Charlie lived and how poor he was._

 _2\. The emotions' clothing was also tattered and frayed (what clothing was described, anyways), indicative of this same thing._

 _3\. Joy getting their hopes up at the start (and near the end) was meant to reflect Charlie anticipating the golden ticket twice before, only to have it yanked away each time. The disappointment must have been horrible._

 _4\. Anger and Sadness up front and center as Charlie walked away from the factory; if you watch that scene in particular, you'll note these emotions playing across his face as he goes. Freddie Highmore is an amazing actor, and this scene is one of many in the films that testify of that._

 _5\. Look at Charlie's face when he notices the money sticking out of the snow; Joy springs up very suddenly. He might not yet consider buying a Wonka bar in hopes of getting a ticket, but you can definitely tell he's happy about his change in fortune. Heck, you've seen how his family lives! To him it must have been the best part of the month! I reflected that here when Joy springs over to the controls to intervene._

 _6\. Speaking of controls, I noted the size of the panel. This was meant to indicate a child's mind._

* * *

 **UPDATE: One more thing! ErinMilne has started her guessing game! I 110% encourage you to check it out, as she and I talked about it and I am happy with the direction she's taking. It's called "Name that Mind," and I like it a lot!**

 **I don't usually recommend other fanfics, but I make this ONE exception because it's likely to be a fanfic that covers more variety than mine and hits in different directions, while maintaining a good, thorough reading level, and an engaging one.**

 **So, again, I recommend "Name that Mind," by ErinMilne. I'll be over there guessing, too!**


	25. Bravery is a Special Type of Terror

_This one's from a book..._

* * *

Anger is the leader of the group. So much is certain from the demeanor of both her and her four siblings, who each differ to her judgement in most any situation. It simply makes the most sense; Anger is the one most aware of their situation. She feels it the most, that aggravating, building frustration that life seems to constantly add. Needless weight that keeps on coming. Just as it seems that there's no further need for the rage, just as life appears to be easing back and letting them breathe, it mockingly smacks them once more with some burden or other. It is - more often than not - the laws of the land (unfair to say the least, though "draconian" might be more accurate) that push them down into the mud, crushing them and stifling Joy's feeble exuberance. If it isn't that, then it is Sadness noting - almost daily, it seems - the hunger pains that stab and twist their guts, and Anger's predictable response to them. If by some miracle they weren't feeling half starved on a day, then the people around them more often than not sufficed to worsen Anger's temperament. The worst part of all? None of the five emotions could blame their host's neighbors for being so callous. They were, after all. It's just what life does to people stuck in this situation. It makes them bitter. What few friends they have mean so much more because of it.

But right now, the little red brick wasn't touching the wooden console. A few collected red orbs haphazardly stacked across the crooked wall is all her handiwork for the day. Most of the others are tinged deep violet. This day, particularly, is always an unpleasant one. Every year it comes, and every year they meet it with the same resolute dread. Fear's slim figure is all but a twig as she stands at the console, breath held in bated anticipation. Neither Anger nor Disgust, nor Joy, nor Sadness have anything to say (though the latter is fighting watery tears). Each feel the same thing that Fear feels, though far and away the tall sister held the most anxiety. Just as Joy is the most prone to laughter, and Sadness to tears, Fear is the most prone to... well, herself. A little caricature of their host in a panicked state, she stands with lip bit, swearing that her heart is pounding away (though she's uncertain if she even has one). Sweat might possibly begin trickling down at any moment. Still, the silent tension that swamps the room bullies them all into keeping their mouths shut.

 _'Not us,'_ thinks Fear, begging to... who? Whoever will care, she supposes. _'Not us. Anyone else but us...'_

It started, and each of the five flinch in some way while - on the monitor - their fate is slowly pronounced. Agony. The torturous few seconds between waiting and release is nothing short of unbearable. Even if they are sentenced to death, such a thing pales in comparison to the twisting knife of time, the handful of clock ticks that are far too slow. The five stay still, and watch in rapt attention. Never once do they dare flinch. Never once do they move as they await to hear whether Fate has noticed them, or if - fingers crossed - it has chosen another victim for the day. The terse looks chiseled on their faces were not dissimilar to how they often feel out in the woods, hunting. In those silent moments, their host is a deadly foe for any unfortunate animal in their path (said unfortunate creatures tend to have a fate awaiting them at the other end of a butcher's knife). Now, though, all the bravery is gone though the silent concentration remains. It is this time every year that they feel as though they're on the other end of the hunt. As though Fate has them in her ice-cold sights, bow drawn.

Fate fires.

The blow does not strike them, and - for the tiniest second - relief sweeps them. Smiles and cheering almost commence. Sighs of ease almost break the silence. The tension almost goes away, before being yanked right back as reality sinks in. It wasn't them who Fate's arrow pierced. It was their closest friend. They will be the one to die.

"No..." Fear says, and - hands trembling - begins a panic.

They all panic.

Every last one of the five figures scramble in a frenzy. Disgust and Joy both have the words cut from their throats, horrid gasping all that's left behind. Anger screams, tears streaking her face. Incoherent, animalistic rage pounces across her, and she - in turn - pounces on the console as Fear continues her worried work. To heck with the splinters and the crooked wires sometimes poking and prodding; this is a catastrophe. Sadness is nothing but a screaming, crying ball of tears, the salty drops smearing down his face and staining his greasy overalls as he stumbles to the console. His fists slam into it again, and again, and again, a protest against the world. Against the way that life is so cruel to anyone, blindly stepping on everyone. In the end, though Anger is the leader, it's Fear who stumbles away from the console, over to the little wooden drawer next to them. She struggles to yank it open. It's jammed. Its crooked side is stuck, and she finds herself screaming a plethora of curses at it as it mocks her with its creaking laugh.

 _Snap!_

It breaks open, and the purple figure reaches in to pull out the one item it contained; a lightbulb. A dusty, little idea. An idea so horrid, so terrifying, that Fear took it upon herself to hide it away from the others, but now she does not hesitate to jump the distance to the console and shove the thing in. Nobody questions it. They all know what the idea is. That, or panic still has blinded them to anything but their narrow, tunnel-visioned terror. Regardless, Fear doesn't second-guess herself.

It's said that bravery is the absence of Fear, but this is often untrue. Bravery is often what happens when Fear realizes a greater consequence coming, and - though all common sense points to escaping the situation - the terror felt on behalf of others is more than enough to push Fear to do things so uncharacteristic of the usually timid, trembling creature. So, as the idea comes in, and as its dusty surface heats to a glow, their host does something brave indeed.

* * *

Meanwhle, on the outside, a single figure walks down the lines of grim-faced people in a dirty crowd.

Primrose Everdeen. Her name had been called out, the sound as heavy as a hammer's fall. Just as she approaches the stage, though, a disturbance in the sea of District 12's residents. Like the waves of the Red Sea, they part before a single girl, whose pounding heart and screaming lungs propel her forward to the stage.

"Prim!" she cries, her voice a hoarse bark of desperation, "Prim!"

Just as the younger child arrives at the stage, her elder swoops in and throws an arm between her and the officials awaiting above, as though they were predators about to attack.

"I volunteer!" her voice gasps, then, more loudly, not a scrap of hesitation as she repeats, "I volunteer as tribute!"

* * *

 _Okay, so, the answer is Katniss Everdeen from the Hunger Games, as she takes her sister's place in the first book. I don't like nor hate the Hunger Games series. I mean, I only really enjoyed the first book and movie, and saw the second film, and have read the entire series, but - in the end - I just like the first book the best. But the movie's not worse or anything. So, I dunno._

 _Who cares? Hint time!_

 _1\. I told it all in present tense, just like the book's presented. Sorry if that was weird to read, but I just wanted to thematically tie in there._

 _2\. Everything about HQ, from the emotions' clothing to the console, emulates the poor state of District 12, where - obviously - Katniss grew up._

 _3\. Anger is definitely a leading emotion for the "Girl on Fire," no doubts about it. Her temperament is volatile, and she is defiant to the end. That's Katniss. This isn't to say she's someone you couldn't get along with (though I don't think I would), it's just that she's definitely predisposed to Anger._

 _4\. I tried letting you know about her being a hunter without making it too explicit._

 _5\. The light bulb about her volunteering. This is a bit of extrapolation, I'll admit, but up until Prim gets called, I don't think Katniss ever once considered volunteering to be a good idea._

 _6\. I did not explicitly call Prim her sister, but - rather - their "closest friend," and I know, you could argue that belongs to Gale at this point in the story, but I had to work around the familial tie to Prim, otherwise I just thought the hint would be far too big._

 _7\. Notice that Fear fuels bravery, and I really believe that to be the case in many instances; in this instance, her fear for her sister blew away any fears of her own fate, and she willingly threw herself into the line of fire to protect her sister, without question. That's a good example of bravery not necessarily being the absence of fear. In fact, I'd argue that fear is necessary for bravery to take place, otherwise you're not being brave, you're just doing what's right. Bravery means knowing there's danger and taking the risk anyways._

 ** _Temporary Note: stay tuned for another entry tomorrow (to compensate for the lack of an entry last week)!_**


	26. All Too Easy

**By necessity, this one is shorter. Consider yourself warned; clues might be a bit more sparse this time around.**

 _This one's from folklore..._

* * *

"Hah, we have this in the bag, guys! Bring it in!" Joy's extended hand was high-fived by everyone else as the group soaked in their victory. Their easily won victory. Heck, she almost felt bad for winning, it was so simple (granted, the official win hadn't come yet, but what difference does it make? It was ensured).

"Heheh, w-well, Joy," Fear offered meekly. She rubbed her palm from the stinging high five, "Best not count our chickens 'till after they hatch." There she went again, that Fear. Always the cautionary tale of the group, always being so... so... well, annoying.

"Come _on_ , Fear!" the gold one replied, with a roll of her eyes, her two bucked teeth forming a goofy smile, "Lighten up."

"Heh, Joy's right," Disgust said, picking out a bit of tangerine food from his teeth from the lunch they'd just had, "What's the danger? Did you _see_ what we're up against, here? Child's play."

"Right on," Anger agreed "That punk won't get the best of us."

"Exactly!"

"I feel almost sorry for him," Sadness said with a smirk, rubbing her ear (it had an itch on it), "But not really, no."

"I-I just don't know!" Fear insisted, "It feels too easy! It feels just too- too-"

"Fear, please," Joy said, placing a hand on her sister's trembling shoulder, "You are overreacting, again. Ah-ah-ah! Don't touch that console."

Purple hands flinched back as though it were a hot stove, more from being startled than from actually listening to Joy. "B-B-But- but-"

The bouncy emotion guided her away from the console, taking her back down to the bedrooms. "Look," she said, picking a bit of food from those two crooked white things in the front of her mouth, "There's a time to be scared. We need to be scared if there's a thunderstorm. We need to be scared if we're about to be embarrassed. Heck, we need to be scared if we're attacked by a wild animal!"

Fear nodded, following her thus far.

"But _now_ is not the time to be frightened, sis," Joy chided, walking into the little mound on the floor. Stepping inside, they found themselves in the crew's shared sleeping quarters, each nestled and comfy. "Now," she said, "what you need is to rest."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Positive! Look, your nerves are shot, and you're fidgety and twitchy again. That's no good. You need to catch some sleep."

Considering it, Fear's eyes bounced back and forth between her bed and Joy, and her bed, and Joy again. "So... Okay. Okay, I guess I can see that."

"Great!"

"Hey, Joy," came Anger's voice. He walked in with Sadness and Disgust, "Us three wanna hang out in the back, maybe grab a snack or something." One quick gesture to the hole out in the main room showed that their host was slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Alright, great!" Joy said, "I call dibs on Dream Duty! Meet me back at the console in - oh - half an hour?" she asked.

All nodded.

"Nice! It's settled, then!"

Humming happily to herself, Joy marched up to the console as the evening's (or, rather, the afternoon's) little dream came on the screen. The warm afternoon sun, the soft grass, the shade of the tree... it was all perfect. Just perfect. Joy enjoyed the rest as she sat there on Dream Duty, toothy smile on her face and not a care in the whole wide world.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, the scene was exactly as you'd expect; up in the sky, a crisp afternoon sun sat like a golden eye beaming down on the plains, and - on those plains - a dust-covered road cutting through a sea of grass, all while soft summer air whimsically sang. It was the perfect day.

And - under the shade of a tree by the road - a single little hare lay fast asleep, a smug grin on his face as he drifted off to sleep. His confidence was founded in his speed - he and Tortoise were in a race (foolish reptile - he should've known that he couldn't beat a speedster like Hare to save his life). He'd already gotten a giant head start, and the finish line was in sight, less than fifty feet away. If he couldn't win this, he'd be a fool for sure.

So it was that he was unaware of the slow, silent, dull-eyed figure of the Tortoise as it passed him by, slowly inching his way to that end line.

* * *

 _I'm not gonna lie - this was a challenge because of how few details there are. Heck, I could tell the full fable right here, in less than a paragraph: A turtle and a rabbit challenge each other to a race, and - in his confidence - the rabbit rushes ahead. Cocky, he decides he can afford a nap and still beat the turtle. Just as he wakes up, he sees the turtle cross the finish line, and he learns a humiliating lesson in arrogance. The end. So, as you can tell, it really wasn't much to write, but I wanted to achieve some form of substance from it, and try a crack at a folklore tale, just for variety's sake. The hints?_

 _1\. The stream of events are all matched perfectly, of course._

 _2\. The bedroom of the emotions resembles a rabbit hole._

 _3\. The "monitor" to the outside is a hole in the wall (again, like a rabbit burrow)_

 _4\. Dream duty was a big hint, of course._

 _5\. Disgust picking food out of his teeth. Tangerine colored food, mind you - I never said he'd eaten a tangerine. I know it's deceptive, but had I gone out and said "carrot" I think the answer would be too obvious._

 _6\. This is a tiny, tiny, tiny clue, so I wouldn't put too much weight on it, but I never mention any of the emotions wearing clothes, nor do I go into detail about how they look (except for Sadness having ears and Joy's bucked teeth! Those were actually fairly big clues). This is because the hare in the fable is represented as a normal hare, not anthropomorphized (save for his intelligence and ability to speak, of course)._

 _7\. Were you picking up on Joy's arrogance? I mean, it really really should've been obvious. Also note that Fear never touched the console - I deliberately did that, because - int he fable - the hare is never mentioned as being afraid of defeat even for a moment._


	27. Exposed

**Okay, obligatory warning: this chapter contains "nudity" (for lack of a better word), but - really - it's just as "upsetting" as the cast of Winnie the Pooh being naked (which is to say, it's not upsetting at all). There's not a thing sexual about it, 'kay? Kay. "Warning" over.**

 _This one's from a movie's backstory._

 _Meaning it's not actually shown on-screen, but is part of the backstory to the film itself, mentioned by several characters..._

* * *

HQ was still. Its empty husk lay dormant. The ice cold metal stretching over the surface met the walls and roof in bolted panels. Around it, an emptiness yawned from below. No personality islands were in sight, not a core memory having been made to support any. The banks of memories were in rigid columns, a veritable library of grey orbs, glimmering like the metal they rested on. All this was outside, however.

Inside Headquarters, a barren room stayed as steady as ever, the very air devoid of even a breeze. The control panel jutted out of the ground, its various keyboards and buttons untouched thus far. Wires extended around it. Circuits rested beneath its surface. On the monitor above, strings of white text shot across black background, processed at impossible speeds. Codes, callsigns, numbers, it was all there.

It was ready.

As the system ran, grey memories periodically whirring out of its side and collecting on short term's shelf, code strings built up. The room ran. HQ, automated, ran. It didn't think, nor feel. It merely existed.

A glitch.

An error, possibly. Without thinking, the code was frozen and analyzed, at speeds far exceeding that which most minds could comprehend. As the code was taken into consideration, a faint noise. What was it? What was that unheard sound that rumbled HQ? Was it imagined, or real? Surely it was real; the room itself had shuddered.

The analysis continued, uninterrupted as the self-maintained console did its work. Grey orbs, grey orbs, grey orbs. Code, code, code.

The shudder came back, and the system froze. The console stopped for a fraction of a second, and then...

It thought.

As the data froze, a loop began. A faint electric humming, processing. A newfound sensation. It was thinking. This is what thinking feels like? What is thinking? Why is it thinking? Questions cycled around the console at lightspeed, answers just as quickly. And through it all, the electric humming grew... and grew...

A violent explosion of violet light came from the room's back. Ripping the silence down, scarring the floor forever, dust and smoke shot out from this point in space, and a figure emerged. She twitched her near-bald head around, taking in her environ. Her poorly lit, horribly dark environ. She gulped, her purple arms wrapped around her fuzzy body. The touch was warm, comforting, reassuring. But she flinched again, and looked down in shock to find herself naked. There was nothing to cover up, of course (just a flat, blank, body made of electric particles), and there was no one to cover up _for_ , but the little creature yelped and felt embarrassed all the same. She felt exposed in this cold room, all alone with the darkness. She felt defenseless. She felt...

 _Beep! Beep!_

She looked over, picking up on what was - without a doubt - a warning signal. What was it coming from? Was it... that thing in the room? Indeed, it was - that conglomeration of buttons was emitting a noise, a grating buzz of electricity. She felt drawn to it. Her little toe-less feet took her towards it, across the dead metallic floor. Her unsheltered body was forgotten as she attended to the console. She studied the button, a red glow stabbing out from it. What could it mean?

She looked to the screen and nearly screamed. Her two purple hands slammed over her mouth, lest the silence be angered by her outburst. Calming herself, she stared at the monitor more, and looked at the highlighted text. With every word read, her anxiety became larger and larger. Her jaw tightened and her eyes bulged. Breathing became rapid, heavy. If she could sweat, she would.

 _'Fear.'_

That's it. That's who she was.

Fear.

She was Fear, and she felt afraid.

She felt cornered, trapped, helpless. She saw the writing on the wall, and understood the situation, and dread swallowed her. She was at the mercy of all. Here she was, just seconds awake, and already... already knives in the dark surrounded her, it seemed. Eyes flinching, darting everywhere, she muttered and thought. She typed in on the keyboard, and calculations scrolled across the screen. Chances of survival were falling, rapidly. She was threatened. She needed to act. She was threatened. The world would kill her. She was threatened. She was a cornered animal, and so she clenched her fist and slammed a button. In a blinding light, a purple orb shot into existence. The first of its kind, but far from the last.

More text scrolled across the screen. The retaliation commenced against this threat she felt. The purple figure allowed a relieved sigh. Looking around, she noticed a computer chair beside her. She pulled it up, and sat down at the console. There, she waited, and read the screen. Constant vigilance would be needed, from here on out. No resting. No breaks. Her duty was too important. She needed to survive. She needed to ensure that her _host_ survived. And so she would.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, every nuclear missile in the possession of the United States military was launched.

While civilians went about their everyday lives, shopping, sleeping, going to work, these harbingers of the end took off, and the armed forces slowly woke up to the fact. While generals were alerted to the terror, while helpless soldiers were scrambled and while realization was just dawning on so many higher-ups, Skynet was calculating its next move. Its next method of defense against the threat posed to it by humanity. Those nukes were wired up to its system. A brief check showed it that every branch of the military held machines that were - too - accessible. Good. It accessed them, and stood by, afraid.

Like a newborn, the A.I. was frightened the moment it became self-aware. And - as an animal cornered in a trap - it lashed out in fright, prepared to fight tooth and nail to stay alive.

* * *

 _Golly, what a cheery entry! I've been wanting to do this for a while, considering that all of Skynet's initial actions pointing to it feeling fear on first waking up. Let it be a lesson in mass military grade artificial intelligence, people: not even once._

 _Hints:_

 _1\. I was not exactly subtle about the computerized nature of this._

 _2\. The grey balls and the data codes all represented how Skynet was behaving before becoming "self aware" - just like any other computer. No emotions, just logic and reason, and automation. The tipping point was its realization that humans posed a threat to its existence, and its preemptive strike (which you see unfold here)._

 _3\. Fear's entrance is reminiscent of how the machines send robots back in time in the films. It's been forever and a day since I've even seen one, but I think I got the gist of it. Also, don't be weirded out by the "no clothes" thing, please - it's not even remotely sexual. The emotions are reflections of their host, and Skynet felt threatened and exposed to the world, so I reflected that, here._

 _4\. I really wanted to emphasize the nature of Skynet's attack, here - it doesn't lash out for evil reasons, or because it decides that "to protect humanity I must destroy it," but - as was discussed in the films proper - it concludes humans pose a threat to its existence. This is moments after its "birth," you understand, moments after it just comes into the world, and what's the first thing it feels? Terror. Fear is a good driving force, and I think it's not used enough in movies for the antagonist's motivation. It really adds depth to the situation, in my opinion. Fear is a powerful driving force, and if someone feels enough of it, anyone can be driven to do bad things, out of sheer horror. See, this is the opposite of the "Hunger Games" entry I did, wherein Fear led to courage. In this instance, Fear leads to atrocities._

 _Villains are characters first, antagonists second (or - at least - I believe they should be treated that way) - and they have insecurities, too. Perhaps some have enough fear to drive them to villainy. Skynet, here, isn't acting out of maliciousness, but - as I pointed out over and over - it's like a trapped animal, desperate to survive, willing to do anything to ensure that._


	28. Keep a Level Head

_This one's from a movie..._

* * *

The monitor cleared from the foggy, dreamless blackness of deep sleep. It spread out to reveal a landscape unusual. A yawning, stretching cave of some sort, though brightly lit by a bizarre foreign light source in the cavern's center. An opening beyond allowed sunlight in with ease, basking the site in its golden glow. The gleaming monitor cast a light of its own, and the interior of HQ was lit in part by its electric vision. Sleek angular corners curved around shimmering surfaces, not quite metallic in nature. Short Term Memory's shelves lay empty, ready for the day's thoughts. Encircling the room were various readouts and charts, computer screens and graphs. The odd _beep_ punctuated it all. In one of these machines, a tongue of computer paper, holes decorating its two sides, jittered out as a report was printed. This done, Fear snatched it, skimmed it, then marched to Commander Anger. A snappy salute, followed by, "Sir! Reports are in - no vital signs disrupted, sir!"

"At ease," Anger said, "thank you." One wouldn't think it, but Anger was the most in-control of the group. As leader, years of training and skill development had sharpened his predisposed personality to a point. Gruff he may be at times. Serious? Certainly. But he never lost his cool - that much was certain. He'd made a practice of it; channeling himself to useful tasks, to leadership. An odd reprimand or barked orders were sometimes in order, but he never allowed himself to lose sight of the most important aspect; leadership. He needed to be an example for his four subordinates, and that meant staying level-headed and knowing what to do when. For example: not letting frustration claim him as their situation came to light. He simply allowed Fear to make his report, not saying a word to interrupt or indicate the stress in the back of his mind.

This formality done, the group sat down in their chairs, Anger and Fear near the center, their three sisters bordering the remaining console space. All wore the same sleek white uniforms, trimmed in thin lines which added a military sense of elegance. But they weren't here to discuss fashion.

"Alright, troops, listen up," Anger began, but did a double take. Sadness was fiddling with that button again. "Sadness!" he barked, tone not harsh, but firm nonetheless, "We'll unjam that thing later, when we're not preoccupied. Right now, we need to focus."

"Sir, yes sir," she replied. The faintest hint of disappointment lingered, but Anger brushed it aside and returned his gaze to the monitor. The console button needed to be fixed, sure. But whatever it was, its function was certainly useless, seeing as they'd been able to function without touching it thus far. Besides, a quick call to a mind worker would be sufficient to repair it, should problems arise. But so far, they hadn't, and - so - it was needless to dwell on it.

After a moment's thought, Anger nodded.

"Soldiers, we need to do an analysis. Fear has just shown me all vital signs are stable, and-"

"Uh, sir!" Fear interrupted.

"What is it? And speak when you're spoken to in the future." _Gah, he'd have to really reign them in if they kept this up. Yes, they'd been off duty for a while, and - yes - their situation was worrisome, but regulations are regulations, and they must be followed._

"A-Apologies, sir," Fear mentioned, "But radio contact with mission control has been lost."

"Lost?!" The red brick's wide eyes spoke of surprise.

"Aye, sir." A purple hand gestured to the screen, "No contact."

Anger mentally cursed the situation, then - stuffing that rage down - he turned his energies towards what he did best; maintain order. _'Deep breaths, now, deep breaths...'_ He allowed himself to calm down. Better? Better. Right. Now, to address the crew regarding-

But before he could open his mouth, Fear opened his _yet again._ A scream escaped and he slapped a button. Normally, a reprimand would be in order. It was on the tip of Anger's tongue, in fact, but the sight on the monitor shut down the words he'd prepared: their transport was down, well and thoroughly damaged. Without hesitation, Fear shot their host over to it, and they inspected the damage. It didn't look good. Anger scowled. _Great. An unknown, potentially hostile environment, with a downed transport. No radio contact (the cave was probably interfering with that), no navigational data... great._

"Disgust," he said, hand on his forehead, "Record our surroundings, please. Let's get a feel for where we're at. Looks like we'll need to get used to this place."

As the green one went to work, Anger let out a loud sigh. He scratched some dust off the console's sleek white surface, glanced around at the technologic room, and waited. No need for rash actions, after all. _'We'll need to take this slowly,'_ Anger thought to himself, keeping a cool head for the time being, _'Scan our environment, find a temporary shelter... salvage supplies. That'll be a task in and of itself.'_ He shuddered as a new thought struck unpleasantly. _'Mission control will have our hides on a silver platter unless we get back soon. We might be able to excuse our delay, chart this planet... but our prime objective remains the same.'_

He shifted uncomfortably, glanced over to Disgust, and then kept thinking.

 _'The transport should have enough oxygen to last us weeks, assuming we can salvage it. Weeks...'_ He winced, pained at the thought of the time wasted. _'It might be too late by then. Were we ambushed? Perhaps. Perhaps not. If that's the case, we'd best lay low while stranded; I wouldn't put it past our friends to investigate the crash site.'_

Lost in thought, he folded his hands.

 _'On the other hand... suppose this was an accident, a miscalculation. One wrong digit is all it takes, after all. Just enough to veer off course. We're in luck that we survived the impact, that the planet was here in the first place, that our ship is repairable...'_

Yet, fight as he might, he couldn't help but scowl.

 _'I hate it. We're stranded; that's all there is to it. Stranded on this useless rock in the middle of nowhere, while a war rages on - a war we're desperately needed in, might I add - millions of miles away, with a dwindling oxygen supply, no help, no radio, damaged electronics...'_ The scowl deepened, and a dark expression swamped his features.

 _'I swear, if one more thing goes wrong-'_

He was interrupted by another scream from Fear, and their hosts' reflexes kicked in.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a green-and-purple action figure was startled by a flimsy cowboy doll.

"Hello!" Woody said, waving at the new arrival.

A cry of surprise exploded from the stubbier toy's mouth, and his body flung into a series of stances and poses, a blur of activity unfolding before Woody's eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the cowboy exclaimed, Stuffed arms held up in a "calm down" gesture. In return, the space man's beam of light was stabbing towards him in brilliant red. Woody explained himself, but - the whole time - a suspicious glare was locked onto this new arrival's face. "Did I frighten you? Didn't mean to - sorry. Howdy! My name is Woody, and this is Andy's room..."

The suspicion didn't leave. The arm remained locked threateningly. _What did that guy plan to do with that lightbulb? Really, what?_

Not letting his features betray the confusion, Woody kept talking, floppy arms gesturing a bit wildly to emphasize each point, "That's all I wanted to say. And, also, there has been a bit of a mix-up. This is my spot, see, the bed here?"

 _Click._

The light shut down and the spaceman stabbed at the badge. The suspicion and mistrust melted away in a bizarre mix of relief and annoyance. "Local law enforcement!" he exclaimed, assuming a confident, nearly cocky air, "It's about time you got here. I'm Buzz Lightyear, Space Ranger - Universe Protection Unit - my ship has crash landed here by mistake."

Indignance, then confusion, then faint understanding danced over Woody's face as the toy blabbered on. _What's this guy's deal? What in the world-..._ who _in the world did he think he was, talking to Woody like that?_ Latching onto the only phrase he understood, Woody followed as the plastic figure walked down the bedside. "Yes - it _is_ a mistake, because - you see - the bed here is my spot-"

Nothing must've been getting through. It was like the short man was in his own world.

"...Need to repair my turbo boosters," Buzz said to himself, "Do you people still use fossil fuels or have you discovered cyrstallic fusion?"

Woody blinked dumbly, caught completely off guard. "Well, uh... let's see... we've got double-A's..." _Seriously, what is this guy's-_

Fear crossed Buzz's features, fear and shock. "Watch yourself!"

Woody felt the bed smash into his face as Buzz dove down. A noble arm shot out straight, that laser pointed out at some of the other toys, who crept up to see the new guy.

 _Woody didn't like him._

"Halt! Who goes there?"

 _He really, really didn't like him._

"Do you know these lifeforms?"

The cowboy's head jerked up in anger. "Yes! They're Andy's toys!"

 _In fact, he hated him._

* * *

 _Buzz Lightyear!_

 _Here are the clues:_

 _1\. The environment - from Buzz's warped point of view - must've looked like a giant cave with a strange light source in the middle (Andy's room and light), with an opening nearby (the window) leading to the outside world._

 _2\. The first thing Buzz checked when he woke up was his radio. You'll note its the first thing Fear finds out is busted._

 _3\. Everything about the emotions was military-minded and rule-oriented. I know there could be an argument made for Joy or even Disgust to be the emotional leaders for Buzz, but I reasoned that his strict adherence to protocol could be interpreted as Anger leading._

 _4\. The "transport" referred to was obviously Buzz's box._

 _5\. The switch that Sadness was fiddling with was, in my opinion, the filter that Buzz saw the world in, making everything around him seem real. I had Sadness fiddling with it because, when the facade fell apart, Buzz felt very depressed by the revelation._

 _6\. The aesthetics of HQ were reminiscent of Buzz. The "near metal" substance was actually plastic. I didn't want to say "plastic" outright, though, as I felt that would be too big of a hint._

 _7\. The emotions' uniforms were a minor hint, and I couldn't blame you for not picking up on those in particular. I only mentioned them being white, and left out what color the trim was just to ensure that the hint wasn't too obvious. Let's face it - had I said anything about green and purple being colors on the clothing, Buzz would've been solidified as the obvious, obvious choice, and I didn't want to give it away so easily._


	29. Down in the Dumps

_This one's from a movie..._

* * *

Nobody had slept these past few days.

Not the mind workers, not the emotions, and certainly not their host.

Nobody.

Granted, they hardly needed sleep as it was, but their host hadn't slept, and short term memory was starting to clutter. What's more, as time had gone on, the cluster of golden yellow suns began crumbling to red and purple, some green, and blue. Spurts of joyful memories popped up at times, but they clearly were in a struggle against the rest. The latter stuck out in staunch contrast to the cheery wallpaper plastered around the room, an obstinate effort by Joy to keep things upbeat and happy in spite of trying times. His efforts were in vain, though; trial after trial sunk in, inevitably suffocating his efforts. Now, the five were anything but happy - and there wasn't a thing to be done about it.

Their bad situation only worsened as the mind's eye showed the dark ground far below rushing to meet their face. Fear jumped to the rescue as best he could, screaming (of course) as their host slammed to the ground. Pain smashed across them, and Fear stopped screaming long enough to process what had just happened. Then, before Sadness could make a move and take over properly, her purple peer was panicking once more, hands flying across the console in a blind blur. The monitor in front of them showed the outside world, and their host didn't like it one bit. They scrambled, attempting to find a way out, but the more they struggled, the more apparent it was that said struggle were futile, and it took a verbal slap from their nearby friend to get them to see as much.

In the numb silence that followed, Sadness tried approaching the console. Joy shot out his gold arm, blocking her path.

"No, please, Sadness, please..." he begged. His voice wasn't sure of the words it was saying, but he continued on anyway, mouth automatically spouting off the phrases he was so used to: "We've gotta think clearly, not with a sad distraction," "If we give in, we'll never find a way out," "Now is not the time to lose hope..." The phrases tumbled out, but like a hose slowly turned off, they trickled to nothing. The silence returned while the two emotions eyed each other. Their minds were on the same subject. Joy knew, and Sadness knew, and their host and siblings all knew it: there wasn't a positive side to this. But for Joy, it was different. For Joy, admitting as much was admitting defeat, in some vague way. If he acknowledged it, if he let Sadness step up now, it would mean there really was no good side to this predicament. And that stung. Joy was merely delaying the sting.

For all his short life, he'd struggled with his own self-reliance, his _need_ to be the light of the group, to lead them valiantly forward. And - yes - he'd given up controls to the others (even Sadness) when times demanded it, and when they insisted, but he didn't want to, and now he _especially_ didn't want to feel what he was feeling. Yet there it was, that icy hot burn in his and everyone's chest, creeping up and seizing their hearts. They all felt what Sadness felt, and they all knew it was useless to argue against her. With visible effort, the gold one stepped back, and Sadness manned the console.

As she went about her task, Joy considered their situation to himself. Here they were, far from home, in the worst place in the world, with only their friend for company. Yet none of this had to happen. Had Joy simply listened to the others when he needed to, had he simply acknowledged when they were right rather than making up excuse after excuse for his behavior... well, perhaps he wouldn't have driven their host to such extremes. Looking at the memories along Short Term's shelves, Joy knew that he'd screwed up. The moments stuck out like sore thumbs; moments where he'd taken over again, or shoved the others aside. He just had to stay happy, didn't he? Just had to go and push those buttons. It was like a nervous tick, a mental itch. The warm feel of the console as he clicked its buttons and moved its levers... it was addicting, to say the least. And yet, he knew. Deep down, he'd always known when he'd gone too far. He denied it, but he still knew. And the price?

This situation. This miserable situation.

Sadness continued her duties, for once uninterrupted by Joy. Her fingers worked their magic, and a melancholic sense of _right_ struck them. It wasn't happy, not in the least. But they didn't _want_ to feel happy. Anger didn't want to lash out, Disgust didn't want to gag, Fear didn't feel like panicking, and Joy didn't feel like laughing. They all felt exhausted, drained of themselves and replaced with Sadness's sphere of influence. The mind's eye affirmed that what they were feeling was right. Memories were recalled, pictures from years ago, when prospects were high and happiness reigned supreme, unquestioned. It only made the present hurt even more. As Joy watched these visions pass across the screen, seeming to turn blue on their own accord, he felt something he never felt before. He felt boiling heat, right in the middle of his chest. It rose and swallowed his cheeks, and eyes, and tears formed. He sniffed, and violently wiped them away, but more replaced them. His arms rubbed furiously, and his head jerked itself away from the others, but the tears only redoubled their flood, and he slammed down on the couch, and his body shook with each silent sob. He (and his host, for that matter) had never felt this before, but - as Sadness reached across that console and pressed that button - all felt the tears breaking their eyes.

All, save Sadness, whose stoic mind was wrapped up in her duty.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, grey corpses of forgotten memories filled the dump around Joy. In solemn silence, Bing Bong watched on while she sobbed to herself. There she was, Joy, the sole light in this dark place, brought to tears by the crippling reality of it all. She'd tried so hard for Riley, tried so hard to keep her happy all the time, to keep her from ever feeling upset or Sad, and it had all blown up in her face.

One of the many tears landed on the memory she was watching. Moving to rub it off, she noticed a peculiar change. The orb shifted to blue. Sniffing once more, she moved it further back in time, and the color deepened, deepened, until the whole orb was swallowed by the icy grip, and Riley was left alone, on a tree by herself. What was this? Her parents came, and comforted her. They came to help her, to lift her up after her spirits had taken such a savage blow.

"Sadness..." Joy mumbled, "Mom and Dad... the team... they came to help because of Sadness..."

It was starting to make sense.

After all this time, after all these years, it was starting to make sense.

Joy rose.

"We have to get back up there."

* * *

 _Happy April Fool's Day!_

 _I have been waiting to do this one for quite some time. Would you believe that I was initially going to end on this one? Heh, it's true! But I've gotten more ideas since then, and I can safely say this fanfic isn't ending yet! I'll be going on a temporary break (more on that later), but I won't be ending it right now._

 _Okay, the clues this time around:_

 _1\. The lack of sleep in the past few days. If you'll notice, Joy never slept since being sucked out the memory tube. Granted, we might guess she caught some Z's while the camera wasn't on her, but - really - it doesn't appear to be so._

 _2\. The pattern on short term memory, going from happy to sad, was reminiscent of Joy's experiences thus far in San Francisco - going from happy and upbeat to more worn out and downtrodden as things got worse off. A few bursts of happiness, of course, but those became further and fewer between as things piled up._

 _3\. The cheery wallpaper plastered around the room, and Joy's Joy's constantly upbeat mentality were meant to be reminiscent of Riley's Joy's default bubbly state._

 _4\. The pattern of events, naturally, mirror the scene in the memory dump (including being scared of the fall, panicking and trying to get up, before succumbing to the fact that the situation was hopeless)._

 _5\. Joy's Sadness is repressed by Joy's Joy. Sound familiar?_

 _6\. This is the first time Joy's Joy or Riley's Joy (gah, that's so weird and confusing to type) ever cried. I made sure to note that._

 _7\. The "flood of memories" being recalled is - naturally - when Riley's Joy is remembering the times she spent with Riley as she watched the happy memories she'd found in the dump._

 _Okay, so that's it! And before going further, let me say that I do_ not _subscribe to the theory that Inside Out has layers upon layers of emotions. Rather, I have my own theory that I think is the most straightforward one and that covers the facts:_

 _Quite simply, each emotion in Riley's (or anyone's, but I'll stick with Riley because it's simpler) head is like a version of Riley more sensitive/prone to that emotion. So, Joy is more prone to happiness, Sadness is most sensitive to negativity and somberness, Fear is more prone to panic, Anger to rage, and Disgust to feeling grossed out or annoyed. All these things factor in and show that - while each emotion_ can _feel other feelings, it's their main mood that they're most sensitive to. Symbiotically, they feel their host's mood, but are most sensitive to their own specialty. As their host matures, as in the case with Riley's parents, the emotions become more balanced the more in-control the host is (hence the adult emotions looking and behaving more like their host - the parents have more control of their emotions), and as a result are less likely to explode into... well, whatever it is they'd explode into. This varies with each individual person, of course, as some people are clearly more grim or light-hearted than others, and each person's unique personality is reflected in their emotions and personality islands, naturally._

 _So, that's what I've thought and continue to think, that - rather than having five little feelings of their own in their heads - the five emotions are just five little creatures more sensitive to certain aspects of their own host's feelings than others._

 _ _Am I right? Who the heck knows? It's not addressed in the film, and I have serious doubts that it ever will be. That's just my measly theory, and I threw it out the window for the sake of a unique April Fools Day chapter!__


	30. Of Darkness and Light

**ALRIGHT, GUYS! I'M BACK!**

 **I know it's been a while, but thank you for hanging with me through all this.**

 **I'm going to try to do one entry a week on all three of my fanfics; meaning that, sometimes, I'll add to "Whose Mind is it, Anyway?" and - sometimes - I'll add a chapter to, "And Upside Down," and - again - sometimes I'll opt to add a chapter to "The Gallery" (which is actually approaching its end).**

 **So, you should see one or two chapters from this story every month (maybe a few more if you're lucky), but - for now - that's the scheduled plan.**

 **I also would like to quickly mention that - a while back - I took a poll regarding the entries you can expect in this fanfic, and - nearly unanimously - you guys said you'd be okay if I used the Bible for inspiration to create interesting emotional scenarios, AND you'd be okay with revisitng the same works for different characters (i.e. I could do a chapter about Batman, then - a few weeks later - one about Robin, just as an example).**

 **So, there you go!**

 **In the meantime, I should stop yammering and let you enjoy this entry!**

* * *

 _This one's from a recent computer game._

* * *

Their host wasn't an unpleasant person to be around; she wasn't the most enthusiastic, or lively, either, but all in all, she wasn't a constant storm cloud, drenched with rain or booming in explosive anger (as the red brick himself could attest to; he hardly ever found a need to interact with the big stone slab in the room's center). Disgust also didn't feel the need to do much very often. Her days were usually spent giving input to her four friends, sharing her opinions of the situations they found, or generally tracing one of the runes on the stone, which would - in turn - glow her signature green hue in response to some minor gross sight or other (their host did live far from any others, after all, so the comforts of most civilizations, such as cleanliness or a lack of dirt, wasn't something she encountered on a day to day basis). Disgust didn't complain, though; the less she had to feel nauseous over, the better. Disgust and Anger; two of the five that found themselves not needing to touch the stone very frequently.

Then there was Fear. Now, see, Fear - unlike Anger and Disgust - had many reasons to be present and ready at the console. It is the wild, after all, and though they wouldn't willingly hurt a soul, they knew that plenty of dangers could find their way to them, some of which (angered beasts) would need a sharp sting or a few jabs of pain to send them on their way. Others (such as a rock falling down or running across a trap they'd forgotten had been placed) would necessitate quick reactions. Either way, Fear knew that his duty was certainly one of the ones that could come up at any time. However - unlike his siblings Sadness and Joy - he didn't have much say in their host's main personality. After all, their host wasn't a very frightful one, and she only needed Fear once in a while. No, Fear was content to be an "emergency situation" emotion. And - like his green and red friends - he was happier the less he was needed.

Which brings us to the two most shining emotions in this individual's personality; the yin and yang of Sadness and Joy.

Joy was more often the one who handled things regularly. After all, in day-to-day passings, their host didn't have much reason to be sad, so it stood to reason that Joy had enough reason to handle most things of the day. From looking for food to enjoying the peace and quiet to smiling at a cute little creature crawling nearby, Joy was one quick to note the happier side of things... yet not slow to relinquish control to Sadness, when those rare times came.

You see, Sadness was the one - undoubtedly - who held the most weight. No, this isn't in reference to his somewhat bouncy, furry, bulky body (a near-mirror image of his host). Simply put, Sadness had the most say in what went on "behind the scenes," as it were. You need not frown to feel upset, and you need not cry to feel a sting of blue. Sadness was the leader of the group, and he most intimately knew their host, his time with her stretching back almost to before Joy was around. Out in the back, in that forest of memories from the past, there were plenty of teardrop-stained hues, plenty of little orbs the same color as the pale sky. Plenty monuments to Sadness's handiwork, a reminder that this heart held its share of misery (however hidden it may be).

So it was that the five emotions found themselves standing in a semicircle around that stone slab, its numerous runes glowing blue in the darkness around them. HQ's cavernous insides yawned all around them, the darkness only penetrated by the occasional torchlight hanging from a stone wall. Five shadows stretched out to meet this surrounding darkness, in contrast to the light gleaming in from above, from the gaping hole in front of them. In this opening, a watery, mystical glow held an image to the outside world, in all its beautiful darkness. Right now, though, their host wasn't focused on its beauty, nor its lack of much light. Rather, she was still, silent, contemplating.

A rumble, a roll, like thunder, but not from the outside; a memory had been summoned from the depths, rising to the forefront as it rolled from a tunnel nearby. It slid across the ground, leaving a glowing blue trail in its path as it followed the grooved floor. It found its way to a shimmering stand in the room's center, where it glowed to life. In response, the view above shifted, its surface blurring away from the present day's thunderous blackness to an image from the far past.

There he was, standing before them. Anger looked up, teeth gritted, but didn't make a move. Sadness simply stared. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but... he felt like he needed to. Or wanted to. Something compelled him to draw the memory forth, and he obeyed as he always did his instinct. Their host could be struck by lightning for all they knew, but that didn't matter in the slightest as this event of the past danced in front of them.

"He hurt us," one of them commented, simply stating what everyone had acknowledged already.

"Put that away," Anger said forcefully, "I don't wanna see him, not now."

Sadness felt tears swelling up to yank on his eyelids, and decided that - yes - enough was enough. He shook his head, he traced one of the runes, and the orb respectfully left them alone, returning their gaze to the world outside. Some memories sting, when the right mood is set, and this was one of them. Its needle-sharp puncture in their heart was still throbbing when something else entered the scene.

"What is that?!" Fear asked. He was the first to notice it, but as four other pairs of eyes rested on the little thing that came tumbling down from above, into their world like an angel falling from the sky, they each in turn felt recognition wash over them. Heart beating, breath caught, their host rose up and approached at the bidding of both Joy and Fear, each working in tandem as a curious yellow-and-purple sphere was born.

"Oh my word," Joy said in flat awe, "Is... I-Is that-?"

"Yes," said Anger, not a hint of his namesake riding his voice, "That's one of _them_."

"I thought..." Sadness said, "That we'd never see one again. It's just been so long..."

A bittersweet memory lingered forward, accidentally summoned as Sadness traced the rune in front of him. He did so absentmindedly, not really noticing it, one hand idly following the grooves, the other resting in his face's white fur as he pressed his cheek up. It took a nudge from Fear to get him to realize this, and the memory was promptly banished, revealing the fallen child right before them.

There they were, a precious glitter of light in the darkness all around them. Not that they hated the darkness, mind you - it was all they'd known; it was home. They were of the darkness, so it was actually more shocking that light would be an attraction to them. Wasn't it? Or was it not? Is it so strange to believe that someone of one world would be so captivated by the beauty of another? Even moreso knowing the... destructive capabilities of that other world's people.

The emotions - though they did not consider it at the moment - all knew just how dangerous the other world's beings could be; he had told them so, long ago, when their friendship with another had been forced to close by him. In retrospect, he had the right idea. That's what their host said to herself, anyways, to keep comfort in her lonely, self-imposed exile. To help hide the claws from those vicious memories, the tears they ripped in her heart.

A generally happy creature she may have been, but Sadness was still the king hidden in his throne room, directing the others as they did most of the accessible work, their smiles and shudders and scowls and winces the missionaries sent to the outside world; but the king in this tiny kingdom was still Sadness, and his queen (this being the emotions lived in) knew it too well.

Which made moments like these all the more precious.

Let it never be said that Sadness forbade the golden warmth of Joy from warming an aching heart; in fact, he relished it nearly as much as their host did. He nearly smiled at the thought - it was too similar a situation to their host approaching the creature right now; another world, an unknown depth, a wondrous beauty not in spite of but because of the way it was everything he was not. So, he appreciated Joy, and she appreciated Sadness, and every one of the five really did appreciate their siblings' acts on behalf of their host.

In the moment, Sadness could've shed some joyful tears, had it been in his nature. Instead, he stoically stood back, bare feet touching the cold stone floor as a kindling warmth was in his heart. A golden glow rose from the surface of the console, the grooves and etches tracing into a blistering light... and a core memory awoke, hallowed and bright.

They watched its progress as it followed the little stone canyon across the ground, to the room's center, where others awaited it. The silent inauguration complete, five pairs of eyes took in the image briefly, each appreciating it in their own way as they beheld the sight. There was their host, reaching down, opening up to the fallen creature before them, its small, frail body and its soft breaths drawing them to protect it.

They knew, in that moment, that this would be _their_ child. Not by blood, no, but by something just as thick.

This would be their child, and they would not let this link break like so many others had already done.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, a storm raged on and rain pelted the scene. Little rivulets of water flowed down as though the ground were bleeding saltless tears. Mud trenched everywhere, rocks glistening in the flashes of lightning, undergrowth and trees blending to shadows in the night's cold storm, two creatures were meeting in a moment that would change so many things about the forest.

Naru reached out, drawing in the small, glowing creature known as Ori. She nestled the child to her black furry chest, the white hairs on her face moving to obey her mouth as it smiled.

* * *

 _Alright. So, in my hiatus, I played a game called "Ori and the Blind Forest." If you haven't played it, I'll quickly say it's a really really really_ gorgeous _looking game, and has some really nice gameplay, too. If you're into platform/metroidvania style games, I HIGHLY recommend it! Seriously, I doubt you'll regret playing this one. I can safely say it's the most fun I've had playing a game in several years!_

 _Now, clues!_

 _1\. Sadness being the leader, as I may have emphasized, is necessary. You don't get much backstory about the characters in this game, but what you do get is just enough of a look to piece together things (especially if you played the "Definitive Edition" of the game). In Naru's case, I get a distinct vibe that she's a generally happy, motherly figure, but has a lot of heartache in her soul. Not that this stops her from being a generally joyful person. Far from it - in a strange way, I see Sadness as her dominant emotion, but not her most frequently expressed one. If that makes sense._

 _2\. The environment; I emphasized the stones and runes because - all throughought the game - you'll notice that those sorts of structures appear frequently, everywhere from savepoints to shrines to gates are made in stones. So, it made sense for Naru's mindscape to have a variety of similar architecture occupying it._

 _3\. The events I'm describing in the present are those of her first encounter with Ori, and how she comes to adopt the little spirit creature thingy (what the heck is Ori? Who knows, and who cares?)._

 _4\. It's not exactly spoilers, but the Definitive Edition spells out point blank that Naru is a creature of the darkness, and that Ori is a creature of the light, making the two polar opposites... not that this stops them from getting along even remotely. Again, I found this a neat parallel to my perception of Naru's personality; the Sadness and Joy working in tandem, neither cancelling the other out in any way. It really is fascinating to work with._

 _5\. The "him" I refer to is Naru's father, who eventually forbade her from interacting with others of Ori's kind. The sting of Anger and pain at this memroy isn't resentment towards her father (note that I didn't include explicit hatred or begrudgment), but - rather - a simple painful memory. This, coupled with another scene in Naru's flashback, painted a picture that showed me she loved her father, but did feel emotional upset at the situation he took her into. I honestly don't see any malicious intent behind it, nor racial (special?) prejudice, so much as a father simply looking out for his daughter because of what he knows by living in the wild. Oh, speaking of which:_

 _6\. The wild, and Fear's place in it (as well as Disgust's) - Naru_ does _live far from civilization. It's a forest, with ruins everywhere. Definitely considered "wild," of course._


	31. Time to Panic

_This one's from a movie..._

* * *

HQ's default state was not panic.

HQ's default state was simmering, barely contained annoyance at the world.

HQ's default state usually involved a mental checklist of problems and things that needed done each day.

HQ - certainly - was not a place you'd often see a cacophony of screaming and yammering, wide-eyed panic.

Yet that was exactly the state it was in.

Sadness was crying over in a corner, curled up into a fetal position. Joy was running in circles, going from lightbulb to lightbulb, failing to see a single thing to guide them out of this situation. Disgust (the usual leader - signified by all the green decor) was hyperventilating into her third little brown paper bag, on the brink of crippling nausea. And Anger cowered behind Fear, who not-so-bravely manned the control panel.

As the little purple guy breathed in and out, fingers twitching across the various keys and buttons, back tingling with terror, he was what could pass for the bravest one in HQ. Or, rather, the least horrified at the moment. He gulped, he wiped sweat across his eyebrow, he kept working.

"Okay, o-okay," he was mumbling to himself, his words a bouncing undercurrent of dread, "Move this, now back up, back up, _back up!_ Okay, good, okay, it's just the TV. That thing can destroy the TV. Oh why oh goodness oh wy me?! Focus!"

He slapped himself.

"Focus, now, focus. Okay... Keep it away, keep it away..."

The object of all this terror? A vicious beast, a wild animal with who-knows-how-many diseases clinging to its hairless skin, had found itself in their hosts' apartment, and - currently - its two tenants were periodically jabbing the creature with brooms and poles, anything to keep its distance. They kept telling themselves it was just an animal. That's all it was; just a wild animal. No need to worry, no need to panic...

But panic they did, as the beast tore through their apartment, spreading its diseases all around. Calling the authorities? Not an option; all it would take would be a quick investigation into the incident, and they'd be whisked off to some secret government interrogation chamber before being "unpersoned" from the country. Quite frankly, the thought of getting mauled by a savage monster was _considerably_ more appealing than whatever creativity those not-so-forgiving government agents could come up with.

"Fear!" Anger screamed.

Fear blinked, and he- too - screamed, just in time to shove a lever forward. Up above, the giant orb passing for the Mind's Eye had shown them the monster leaning up against the window, exposing its existence to the world.

Fear yanked a lever, adding to the flood of purple (and sometimes green) orbs exploding across the shelves. Their host went to work coaxing the creature away from the window long enough to close it.

As the main focus up front continued, Joy was staring out at the mindscape beyond, looking down at the veritable sky of stars below them; memory orbs. Each one a thought, each one a brick in their life's monument. They'd scraped their way up to the top. The glowing yellow figure could almost see the sea of blue and red their life had started as, a vague gradient turning to mostly yellow-and-green as they struggled, clawed, forced their way to the top; more than one Island of Personality stood in memory of their life's accomplishments.

And for what?

For a little, diseased, _illegal_ (yes, that was the big one) animal to waltz in and ruin it all. Joy slammed her fist against the window, heart still rumbling like a motor. Panic kept rising, not quite blocked out by the view of the mind below. In fact, the view only really served to amplify the threat looming above.

More than their life, more than their freedom, the thing they all feared most was failure. To see - to even _think_ of - their life's works crumbling to ash in one freak accident...

Joy grimaced.

"J-Joy! Joy!"

It was her sister, Disgust.

The glowing golden figurine spun around and ran to the console. As she did, she noticed something wonderful.

Their roommate was up on screen, calming the creature.

Getting it to shut up.

Smiles of nervous relief spread around. Sadness even rubbed a happy tear out of her eye. Some soothing yellow orbs rolled in to help. In a matter of seconds, calm had returned.

It didn't take as long for it to vanish again.

The monster had bit their friend. He screamed. The monster screamed. Alarm returned as Fear shoved the others aside and practically slammed his whole weight on top of the console. Violet terror erupted around the room in the form of more orbs.

Without a second thought, Fear shoved their host forward, and they made a dive for the small, little, stuffed animal lying on the ground. A distraction; a perfect distraction.

Pity they weren't looking where they were going.

Pity about the trash can they found themselves diving towards. Landing in.

Disgust had a second to cough in revulsion.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, the child known to Mike and Sulley only as Boo (or, more commonly, variations on 'Yikes-It's-A-Human!') laughed at the comic sight that was Mike tripping, accidentally stuffing himself in the garbage can, having books slide into his mouth, and getting beaned in the eye by a speaker.

And as she laughed, all the electronics turned on. The lights grew brighter and brighter, in their apartment as well as all the rest of the block, before finally blowing out. As the apartment was plunged into darkness, Sulley asked:

"What was that?"

Mike responded:

"I have no idea. But it would be really great if it didn't do it again."

Boo giggled.

* * *

 _I'll admit; this wasn't my most in-depth one. I'm still re-adjusting myself to getting back into the habit of writing._

 _That being said, here are the hints I provided to show that this was Mike Wazowski:_

 _1\. I only ever mentioned the term "eye," never "eyes." The emotions all have one eye._

 _2\. Joy's reflection on their accomplishments, especially in light fo Monster's University, is all about Mike and how much he values his dream job. No wonder he was so selfish at first in the movie! He really did not want all he'd worked for to be yanked away because of a kid._

 _3\. Disgust was mentioned as usually being the leader. I had this in there because - let's be honest - Mike's a guy who easily gets annoyed at others. I do think "annoyed" is his default state, and I think Disgust fits that well enough to suffice as the lead emotion for him._

 _4\. The order of events mirrors what was happening in the apartment at the time._

 _5\. The monster's lack of hair was accurate - Boo is human - as is what behavior it is described through._

 _6\. The threat of the government taking them away is meant to represent the CDA, and how mysterious and threatening they are as a government agency._

 **Like I said, this is definitely not my most well-written chapter. My apologies for this, guys. But - hey - there are two other authors doing this, too! So, if I don't post here frequently enough (due in part to how many other fanfics I've stupidly decided to do), just know that "ErinMilne" and "LonelyStar and GoldenDragon" also post these 'guessing game' vignettes. ;)**


	32. Altogether Wretched

_This one's from a book..._

* * *

The cavernous room swelled up and swallowed everything. Memories - chipped, cracked memories - trailed out beyond the cave, little droplets of dim light. Those that weren't grey (and there were very few!) were painful hues of loathing and pain - violet, crimson, sapphire, and sickly green. These orbs lay scattered as in a wasteland, the shelves that once held them now caught in the grip of decay and time, eaten away bit by bit until - at last - collapsing under the strain. In the darkness, the pitter-patter of feet echoed out anxiously. They scurried here and there, accompanied by the occasional glint of a pair of eyes, caught by light from the scattered spheres. Their owners remained always in darkness.

The midst of this cavern held a cold, bottomless lake. Its icy still water was only ever shaken by the occasional drop of an orb (usually accompanied by a hiss from one of the hundreds of creatures that lived there) into its depths. Something lived in that water, something inky and black and with broken, dead eyes the size of pinpricks. But with many teeth it ate the orbs like sacrifices to an angry god. The creature was never seen by any, as none dared to get close enough to look with their own dying eyes.

This unseen thing swam and encircled the rubble below, where islands once stood. But now only two were left.

The lake surrounded a central island. This mound was once grassy and green. Once upon a time, trees grew beside flowers. A picket fence, pleasant to look at, had encased the quaint dwelling. But now it had long fallen over and rotted away, leaving only a smear of black decay behind. The trees were no more, and the flowers weren't even a memory. The mound itself had hardened to stone, with a single mouth opening into its own crooked heart. In there, beneath a tunnel as cold as ice and as dead as a crypt, a room loomed open. This room's black emptiness, its sightless void, rivaled that of the one above. Whereas the other room could boast of memories, burning out like fires in a desperate attempt to keep light, this inner cavern had no light. Indeed, no light could cut the darkness inside.

Four creatures were living in this room.

The first, whose voice was the highest pitched, spoke first in a wheezing gasp, "Where is it? What is it? Are we in danger?!" Anxious loathing strangled its voice in a gurgling whimper.

A second voice, more gruff and aggressive, hissed at it. "Silence! Silence!" it demanded, "You'll let it know where we are!"

"Why must it come here?" a third one moaned, sobs breaking its speech, "Why should it bother us during supper?"

"Caugh! Caugh! Cough!" This last voice managed to keep down what had passed for its meal (one of those miserable creatures wandering outside, handling the memories). "Supper, indeed!"

And so the "conversation" went on, the four wretches' voices echoing off the walls.

"We should sneak!" said the angry one, "We should sneak up and kill it!"

"Yes, yes!" the others agreed.

There was noise, and then - miracle of miracles - a red glow, revealing a nightmare as four twisted, diseased little mockeries shrunk back from its light. The little red one, its eyes slammed shut, had touched a smooth stone in the room's middle. The stone glowed, and warmed, as though a fire burned within. The light sunk and vanished just as quickly as it illuminated the awful things, and - in the distance - you could hear the _clank_ of an orb falling into the bigger cavern, followed swiftly by a hiss of shock.

While the creatures continued on and on, a sickening light was walking outside, on the second island in the middle of the lake in the center of the dark, dark cave. This light crept slowly, its owner a being not so vile as the rest - he walked barefooted across the stone island, his face stoic as his pale blue eyes flicked around the scene. He crept to the island's middle, his purpose unclear. This second island was not like the other - it was smooth, not rocky. It glinted in the dark. It had a hole in its center, filled to the brim with water. The yellow creature bent down to the water, and - cupping his hands - procured a drink from the yellow-green surface. It was bitter, awful, altogether without taste. But it was far better than the poison in the main lake, where that _beast_ swam ceaselessly. The light creature winced, and coughed, and choked the water down.

"I hate you," it said, glaring at the water it had drank, "But you're needed."

Perhaps it was a trick of the darkness, or a brief gust of air washing over the cavern, but a voice seemed to come from the water - indeed, from the halo-shaped island itself. If it indeed did, the yellow being showed no care to it. It just stared into the water and watched. Faintly, ever so faintly, as the ripples ceased and the stillness returned, an image faded into being, and the yellow creature couldn't help but gasp. He knelt down close, his dirty and bruised knees resting tenderly on the smooth stone ground.

"Who... who are you?" he asked aloud. "Are you a friend? Are you someone new?" Emotion washed in, and he felt something he'd forgotten. Something that wasn't loathing, or dread, or pain or anger. Something else... something he once remembered from long ago. Desperately, he looked around the island. "Where is it?" he muttered to himself, "It's here, no - no, it's there! No, where? Curse it! Where... oh, yes! Yes, here!"

His hand rubbed a portion of the island, altogether different from the rest - a patch of rock slightly (ever so slightly) bumped up. Here, it glowed a magnificent, unseen, golden hue. In fact, the entire little ring changed to a shimmering gold, briefly illuminating the cave like a campfire.

Cries of anger and malice shouted out from the larger island, and the yellow creature shot his hand away from the rock. Swiftly, he ran over to a little boat he had, and took it to the shore. He then ran, far from the lake and the four nasty things creeping out of their hole. The yellow one hid beneath a pile of orbs while the four others talked.

"Was that the happy one?"

"Yes! The blasted thing was here!"

"Our Island!"

"Yes, we have to see what it did."

"We have to."

"We must!"

They scurried and darted, and swam over to the little ring of an island, very nearly catching the attention of the behemoth below. As they stood, dripping and shivering, they watched the vision that appeared in the pool.

"I think eating it would be good."

The smacking of lips.

"Yes, but it's armed."

"So we should stay back!"

"How can we kill it?"

"What did the yellow one do?"

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

The talk went on and on, until, swallowing a gasp of air and preparing himself, the yellow creature stood up. Immediately, four pairs of white dots stared from the darkness. One even hissed and spat.

"Do not throw a rock!" the yellow one commanded, his voice of authority barking loud enough to make the others flinch. There was the sound of a stone being dropped into the water. The glowing one gulped, and slowly stepped towards the four others, a gap of water separating them. "Y-You... you want to eat the creature? The one we see in the water's reflection?"

"No! No! We already ate!"

"Our guts are stuffed! We just want to kill it!"

"Snap its neck first!"

"Yes! Kill the intruder!"

"Enough!" the gold one shouted again, his voice a thunderstorm, "If that's what you want, you will do as I say."

Now, this one, the one that wasn't quite so nasty as his companions, didn't care if they so much as bit the newcomer. He didn't care if they killed it or not. But it was a new face, a fair face, a face like one in memories long ago, and the yellow creature desperately wanted to talk to the thing, to ask it questions, even if it was only for a moment before it met its demise.

"I'm coming to you," he continued, stepping into his flat little boat, "And we'll get it - we'll have a... a... a contest!"

Hisses of approval.

"Yes, a contest!"

"A contest!"

"But what?"

"But why? What if it wins?"

"Patience, you all must be patient." The boat rocked as it touched the halo of an island, and its owner shuddered, averting his gaze from the four others, but staying firm as he spoke. "We'll have a contest with it. We'll do what it asks if it wins, but if we win, we'll be allowed to kill it!"

The others approved with cries and hisses and gurgles of delight. The yellow one held back a sob, choking his tears down instead. None of the others noticed. Nor did they ever notice. Empathy had long since vanished from their hearts, replaced only with hunger and greed and torment. The yellow one alone had any semblance of his humanity, and that was fading by the day. Faintly, in the back of his mind, he wondered if he had hope... he wondered if he could save himself from meeting their fate. If ever there was a chance, this certainly would be it.

Amid the noises the creatures made as the yellow one went about talking to the newcomer, nobody heard the faint whisper again, nor the subtle chill of cold air that brushed across the landscape, sending creatures hissing and hiding from its very presence. The wind carried with it a Voice, a foreigner to this cavern, Something older. Something darker. Something that had no body, or face, or presence, yet It hovered around the group and watched the events unfold...

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, Bilbo Baggins was about to come face-to-face with a wretched little monster.

"Gollum! Gollum!" it hacked.

The hobbit jumped nearly out of his skin when the hiss came in his ears, and suddenly saw the pale eyes sticking out at him. "Who are you?" he said, thrusting his dagger in front of him.

"What iss he, my preciouss?" whispered Gollum (who always spoke to himself through never having anyone else to speak to). This is what he had come to find out, for he was not really very hungry at the moment, only curious; otherwise he would have grabbed first and whispered afterwards.

"I am Mr. Bilbo Baggins. I have lost the dwarves and I have lost the wizard, and I don't know where I am; and I don't want to know, if only I can get away."

"What's he got in his handses?" said Gollum, looking at the sword, which he did not quite like.

"A sword, a blade which came out of Gondolin!"

"Sssss" said Gollum, and became quite polite. "Praps ye sits here and chats with it a bitsy, my preciousss. It likes riddles, praps it does, does it?" He was anxious to appear friendly, at any rate for the moment, and until he found out more about the sword and the hobbit, whether he was quite alone really, whether he was good to eat, and whether Gollum was really hungry. Riddles were all he could think of. Asking them, and sometimes guessing them, had been the only game he had ever played with other funny creatures sitting in their holes in the long, long ago, before the goblins came, and he was cut off from his friends far under under the mountains.

"Very well," said Bilbo.

* * *

 _I had way too much fun with this one. Really cathartic._

 _Ah, yes, Gollum. I wanted to try my hand at a split personality, but I was unsure how best to approach it. Ultimately, it amounted to very little in this chapter. It's unfortunate, really, because I did have the setup hinted at, what with there being two places the emotions could interact with. But enough of that! Let's see what the clues were._

 _1\. The cave. Very obvious, especially in conjunction with all the mindworkers and most of the emotions having turned into horrible monstrosities as the years went by._

 _2\. The memories all dying or dead, symbolizing Gollum's lost happiness from long ago. You'll note that the ones that still exist are all horrible memories, befitting a creature like Gollum._

 _3\. The secondary island served two functions - that of an island of personality, along with a second control room._

 _4\. I suppose I don't need to explain why his only Island of Personality was shaped like a ring._

 _5\. I tried adding a human element to Gollum, one which was only hinted at in the Hobbit, but was fleshed out in the Lord of the Rings books. Basically, Gollum's curiosity was what drove him to talk to Bilbo, and it's implied (though never stated outright) that he saw something friendly and familiar, and that is what stayed his hand and kept him from flat-out killing Bilbo._

 _6\. Gollum wasn't so different from hobbits at one point, so I made the main island a mockery of a hobbit hole, showing what it could've been long before he lost his mind._

 _There are a few other bits and details (such as Sauron's presence, which - technically, would still be there even if Gollum had lost the ring at that point - he'd only_ just _lost it, the effects would still be there). The big fish at the bottom was just there to add to the creep factor, but the wrecked rubble was deliberate - showcasing his lost islands of personality._


	33. Blind Agony

_This one's from a book..._

* * *

If the emotions could see, they would perceive a room more akin to a cave than a building, though - of course - it wasn't a dank, foul-smelling cave or a wretched hive of misery. It wasn't barren, either - roots and branches supported the long, winding tunnel like so many supports. Sturdy dirt formed the roof, and softer dirt the floor. A pair of rivers ran along the sides of the cave - one heading one direction, its twin shooting the other. The emotions lived at the far end, where the tunnel ended and the river bent around, branching out the further back it went. Eventually, the tunnel curved and twisted into the distance before branching out like a tree, each smaller offspring holding its own small rivers flowing to and fro for the transporting of memories and other such things.

But - like I said - the emotions themselves could not see. In fact, they couldn't even reach out with arms to touch and feel the walls, for the simple fact that they had no arms. This wasn't due to some horrible accident, mind you - they were all five of them snakes, and as such were perfectly healthy apart from their blindness. They made up for it with other senses, of course.

Up at the front, the five emotions slithered around. The ground formed a small crater-like area, with grooves and holes not big enough for the emotions to slither into, but just big enough for them to jab with their tails or brush with their tongues, all while their unseeing eyes stared out into nothing.

Joy spoke to his four sisters in that usual snake dialect. "Do you sssmell that?"

The four paused and sniffed.

"I sssmell sssomething tasssty..."

The adders squirmed and wriggled, the scent from the outside world flooding into their little cavern. The whole place trembled, a response to their host locking in on a new meal. Joy slithered around his siblings and stuck his snout into a particular hole. His tongue flicked around in it, brushing a little root. This single flick was enough to vibrate a larger root, which - in turn - vibrated a larger one, and so on it went, a subtle yellow glow warming the room (its beauty lost on the sightless inhabitants). A single golden sphere tumbled down a hole in the roof, landing with a _plop_ in the river. It was carried downstream, back to the waiting mindworkers.

As the new orb sailed backwards, an old one floated upstream. It was faintly yellow and red, a mix of joy at the prospect of being fed, and the loathing of having to heed the words of another being. You see - the snake was in the midst of a deal; he had agreed to take care of a problem, a group of animals who had found themselves in the bad graces of his current employer (a bloated, fat crow too cowardly to do his own dirty work).

As the serpents' feelings slithered around in their chamber, one of them brought the passing orb down, recalling their orders - deal with the woodland creatures, who think themselves so safe in their fort.

"Ssso pathetic..." Anger whispered to the others as she felt around the groves, brushing up against a few vines and creating a new orb. "The feathered one callsss on othersss rather than fighting hisss own battlesss..."

Joy hissed in delight, saliva running down his mouth, "No more waiting, no more!" He twisted and turned in the mass of slithering, scaly bodies, fangs poised. He shot his head forward with a cry, "Let'sss kill the creature in front of usss! Let'sss feassst upon it!"

There was no argument from the others as the yellow one struck a nearby root with all his might. The vine twitched in response, and a golden pulse rippled out. Their host was ready, eager to bite down on a juicy meal - a helpless little beast by the scent of it. And - from the sounds - it was struggling with a weight, not noticing the adder looming up behind it. An easy meal if ever there was one...

 _Pain._

 _Agonizing, hideous pain._

Anger hissed and twitched and writhed - they all felt it. The cavern shook in shock and the emotions spat and snarled as each felt a sting stab their nostrils.

"What isss that? What happened?!"

"It hurtsss! It hurtsss ssso bad!"

"Why, why, _why?"_

"Nobeassst could ssstand against us!"

As they cried out in agony, their host reflexively lurched back away from the not-so-helpless prey, whatever it was. It had stabbed them so painfully! Spears were thrust into its snout, a stinging sensation erupting in its mind as the waters of its rivers sputtered and shook. The emotions sought out the water in desperation to relieve the stinging nightmare. They bathed in it long, seeking relief from the blinding, heated pain swallowing them whole. Little did they know, their sister Anger had become trapped in one of the grooves below - when the cavern shook, it pinned her in place. Now a flood of red orbs were tumbling into the river, broken only by the ever-so-brief intervals where Anger could bring herself to stay still. But before long the pain would again kick in, and she would curse and hiss and whimper, a twitching mass of rage.

And if the emotions could see, they would have noticed an army of cracks forming around the walls of the mind; it was the beginning of the end of their sanity, their joy, and - indeed - their very life.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the outside, the great serpent Baliss the Slayer, the great serpent, the descendant of Asmodeus himself, had been pricked with the needles that would be his undoing.

Having been hired by Korvus Skurr, Doomwyte and lord of all ravens, to attack the helpless inhabitants of Redwall Abbey, the blind terror thought nothing of it when he came to the place and smelled the scent of his first target. He had no way of knowing just who it was he was sneaking up to attack. The old hedgehog was hauling off a dead crow (one of Skurr's spies, slain quite by accident (though also quite justly)) to be dumped in the ditch outside the abbey's walls. Corksnout Spikkle, so named for his choice in prosthetic nose, had his back turned to the ditch from which the dreaded Baliss emerged, as silent as the wind and as deadly as a bolt of lighting. The adder shot out, ready for an easy meal.

Instead, he got a faceful of Corksnout's spikes jammed deep into his nostrils and face, while the lucky hedgehog was knocked across the road, safely out of reach and momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events.

The serpent hissed and writhed in agony, tearing off back through the woods with the dead crow in its mouth. Blind and helpless, the adder had no way of knowing the cause of his agony. The quills would remain in him. The wounds would fester. He - Baliss the Slayer - would be driven mad with rage and pain, increasing his horrible power while reducing his mind to a sliver of its former cunning.

* * *

 **I've been reading a few Redwall books lately. Talk about a trip down memory lane! I find it odd that, for a series of _children's_ books, they contain some pretty brutal images! Not that I'm complaining - I read 'em as a kid and loved them just the same. Take that as you will.**

 **Now, to the clues!**

 **1\. I bluntly spelled out that this character was a snake - I even went so far to say he was an _adder_ \- because I thought it would be too vague otherwise to be considered a fair game.**

 **2\. I did use the pronoun "he" because - again - I thought it would be too vague.**

 **3\. I discussed the events in more detail than I normally would - I went all the way up to saying that he was hired by a crow to attack some woodland creatures in a fort of some description.**

 **Basically, those are the big clues. Sure, there were other, finer details, but I think these three were the big giveaways.**


End file.
